


From Ice to Fire

by chaos_monkey, MotherRameses



Series: In another life [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Alien Biology, Come, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fix-It of Sorts, How many tropes can we fit in one story?, M/M, Nightswan didn't die, Plot and smut chapters separate and tagged, Porn With Plot, Somnophilia, Temporarily Dubious Consent, Tentacles, Xeno, also cuddles, overly detailed discussions of Chiss reproductive biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21654763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherRameses/pseuds/MotherRameses
Summary: After his presumed death at the Creekpath mining complex, Nightswan was able to effectively disappear from the eyes of the Empire and continue his work with various cells of the Rebellion in secret. Grand Admiral Thrawn, however, was not so easily fooled. A planet’s fate is at stake when Thrawn contacts Nightswan to suggest another clandestine meeting, much like he did at Batonn. But this time, events beyond their control conspire against them…
Relationships: Nevil Cygni | Nightswan/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Series: In another life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2176167
Comments: 34
Kudos: 37





	1. (SFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our first OFFICIAL collab! Mind the rating tag my friends, things are certainly going to heat up later ;)

Nightswan ran a final check on the coordinates Thrawn had sent him. Not because he didn’t trust Thrawn — he knew Batonn hadn’t been Thrawn’s doing. It didn’t fit his pattern. But Nightswan hadn’t survived that massacre because he had been careless. He was careful, he was cautious, he was smart. And that meant triple checking the coordinates, ensuring the upcoming meeting wasn't a trap. 

Satisfied that Thrawn had indeed chosen a meeting point that wasn’t under Imperial control, and that Nightswan’s own survey teams were certain it was safe (he had checked their routine reports without their knowledge; that was his privilege as their leader), he plugged the coordinates into his speeder’s navicomputer and settled in for the journey. 

The rebel leader pulled his puffy blue parka tighter around him as he surveyed the landscape zooming by, guiding the speeder around drifts of snow on the seldom-travelled path. This was a beautiful world, if cold. Noontime sunlight streamed through the canopy of the speeder, the blue-green sky clear and free of clouds save for a fresh storm brewing on the horizon. It was the first mostly clear day after a severe blizzard, one so brutal it had stalled the fighting on both sides - his rebels retreating to the icy caves at the foot of the mountain to seek shelter, and the Imperials returning to the safety of space. 

Nightswan had expected the fighting to resume when the storm broke, no matter what was in the future weather forecast; he knew Imperials never wasted a chance to beat on someone if they could. But that wasn’t what happened. 

The moment the blizzard had lessened enough that comms came back online, Nightswan had received a message from Thrawn, requesting a meeting not unlike their one on Batonn. He wondered if Thrawn was going to reiterate his offer of sending Nightswan off to work for the Chiss Ascendancy. He didn’t know what he would say if he did. But that didn’t matter. He would listen to Thrawn, hope to convince him to leave this world alone, and make his decision regarding leaving known space later. 

And if that offer wasn’t what Thrawn had planned… Well. Either Thrawn was going to have something interesting to say, or Thrawn was going to try to kill him. 

Nightswan grimaced. A part of him hoped Thrawn would attempt the latter - air out their differences man to man, fist to fist or blaster to blaster. Thrawn was a thorn in his side, a roadblock in his journey of bringing freedom to suffering people. He told himself he wouldn’t feel guilty killing Thrawn if Thrawn attacked him first. It would be self defense, and it would be prudent to his cause. 

But Nightswan couldn’t ignore the tiny part of him that _hated_ that idea. Of killing his enemy, of killing _Thrawn_ , no matter the circumstance. It wasn’t just because he didn’t like killing, or because he felt he and Thrawn did share common ground regarding the future. This was something… Different. 

He shoved that thought down. Now wasn’t the time to sort out those feelings. He needed to keep his head clear. 

He sat up a bit straighter in his seat and sharpened his eyes, searching for any sign of foul play as he made his way to the agreed upon meeting point. He was still several hours away, but experience told him it paid to be watchful, and he had chosen to take a speeder instead of a shuttle so he could do just that — it was easier to spot anomalies when you were level with the ground. The snow glittered and glinted in the cold sunlight, possessing the sharp, crisp sheen of fresh flakes. Animal tracks peppered the drifts of snow, messy paths cut through the towering trees as local fauna took advantage of the break in the storms to forage. As he wove through the forest and around the mountain, long shadows started to flicker over him, cast both from the trees and from the sharp crags and bluffs that Nightswan and his rebels had come to call home. 

The shadows disappeared as he pulled away from the edge of the mountain range, and he poured more speed into the thrusters as he crossed into a wide, open pass that would take him to the next set of cliffs. The trees were more sparse here and visibility was better, but the winds picked up as a result of the new terrain, and Nightswan found himself fighting the speeder for control. He sighed — if that wind was a portent of what was to come, he hoped his meeting with Thrawn would be quick enough to see him returned to base by the time the next storm hit. 

As he neared the low hills signaling the start of the next mountain range, the winds didn’t die down, and Nightswan sighed again. The next storm was going to be bad, and that would only drag this engagement with the Imperials out longer. 

He wondered for what felt like the hundredth time what Thrawn wanted to talk about, and his mind kept coming back to Thrawn’s offer of joining the Ascendancy. Nightswan found himself hoping that’s what Thrawn would bring up again; an offer he could leverage for the freedom of the people on this cold world. 

Nightswan chuckled darkly to himself. He knew that was a pipe dream. Even if he did take Thrawn’s offer — if that offer still even existed — and the 7th Fleet left, some other Imperial would move in to replace it, eventually. Thrawn would keep his word and not return, but Thrawn couldn’t speak for the whole Empire. 

Which was a shame. 

The thought startled Nightswan. When had he come to view Thrawn as a positive force in the Empire? 

He allowed himself to chew on that thought as he drove. He supposed if he had to nail it down, it was probably when Thrawn successfully dismantled that insidious spice operation on Cyphar. Nightswan had been furious with himself that he had been taken in by the settlers, but he couldn’t ignore the small flicker of pride he felt in successfully directing Thrawn’s genius. 

And Thrawn truly was a genius. That was what made him such a formidable opponent. Nightswan wouldn’t deny the grudging respect he had for the Admiral, respect that had been brewing for years and was solidified by their prior meeting. It was clear he truly did care for the lives of those struggling under Palpatine’s oppressive thumb, even if he expressed that care in odd ways. 

Not for the first time, Nightswan wondered what would have happened if _he_ had discovered Thrawn on his exile planet, instead of the Empire. 

Never mind the political and tactical implications of having such a strategic genius on his side. Nightswan had studied his opponent, and had found the few holos taken of Thrawn aboard the _Strikefast_ after his capture. The long hair, the broad shoulders, arms bare beneath a vest of skins, the almost _regal_ cant of his jaw despite the binders around his wrists— 

Nightswan shook his head. _Stop that!_ He admonished himself — Thrawn was his _enemy_ , one he was racing across the planet to meet. Now was not the time to indulge in pointless daydreaming. 

With a sigh of effort, he returned his thoughts to the present. The rolling hills had given way to more rocky terrain, less forested than the mountain Nightswan had left behind. This particular mountain, while part of the same range that spanned half the planet, seemed sharper, more pointed than the one he had called home for the past few months. There were more sheer cliffs, more steep drops, and Nightswan had to carefully navigate the pass around its base, slowing to avoid rocks and boulders that had tumbled to the bottom. It was a difficult task, what with the fresh snow obscuring the most obvious paths, and it irked him that even the treacherous navigation wasn’t a significant distraction for his prior musings. The sun had begun to sink low in the sky before Nightswan finally made it to the small clearing Thrawn had chosen for their meeting place, and he again found himself forcing his mind to focus. 

He felt his eyes narrow as he pulled his speeder closer. Thrawn had taken a _Lambda_ shuttle to their meeting?

“What happened to my freighter?” Nightswan called as he popped the canopy on his speeder and hopped out, ignoring the wind whipping at his fur collar. 

Thrawn had watched his approach, standing stiffly on the extended landing ramp of the shuttle, and to Nightswan’s surprise, he thought he caught the shadow of a smile flicker across that blue face as he spoke. 

“It is otherwise occupied,” Thrawn said mildly, raising his hands slightly as Nightswan neared to show he wasn’t visibly armed. Nightswan knew better than to think Thrawn was completely weaponless; he himself had tucked a small blaster into his boot. “Which is why I chose this for our meeting place, so as not to draw undue attention.”

“How thoughtful,” Nightswan said dryly, though as he thought on it, he realized that was actually a significant fact. Thrawn taking an Imperial vehicle to a meeting that could be seen as treason was a big risk. It would take some smooth talking to get the commander of his flagship to allow him to take the shuttle without declaring his destination. 

Unless this was a trap. 

Nightswan resisted the urge to go for the blaster in his boot as the thought occurred to him. Thrawn was formidable, he could be ruthless, and he was always, above all, smart. He wouldn’t do something so obvious as trap him in this manner - Nightswan had seen the shuttle and could have made for cover long before Thrawn could have gotten it in the air again, what with its ramp lowered and engines cold. 

Then again, none of that had occurred to Nightswan as he had pulled up. He scowled — he had allowed himself to get distracted, and it could have cost him his life.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Nightswan asked, realizing he had stood silently for a moment too long and forced a light tone to cover his momentary scowl. He wondered if Thrawn knew what he had been thinking, if Thrawn somehow knew why he had been distracted. He shoved that thought aside. 

“I had hoped—” Thrawn began almost casually, then cut himself off, glancing sharply to the sheer cliff face towering above the small clearing. 

“You had hoped—?” Nightswan’s question was cut off by Thrawn snapping a hand up, demanding silence, and the Chiss turned to look up at the cliff. 

Nightswan frowned, following Thrawn’s gaze, but didn’t see anything amiss. He was just about to ask what the hell was going on when he heard a low rumble building, carried on the stiff wind, and suddenly Thrawn turned, glowing eyes wide. 

“Run!” Thrawn barked, and then he was gone, tearing past Nightswan as the rumbling crescendoed, and to Nightswan’s horror, he finally saw what Thrawn had heard. It started almost gently, puffs of snow floating off the cliff above the clearing, flocks of birds soaring away into the darkening sky, but Nightswan had been on-planet long enough to know what was coming. 

An avalanche.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smutty chapters will be standalone and labeled as such in the notes, since we are going to get pretty kinky up in here! If you get sucked into the plot but get squicked by our smut, you will be able to read the non-smut safely lol
> 
> Thank you for reading!! <3 <3


	2. (SFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this chapter - that's coming in chapter three ;)
> 
> a brief recap of the last chapter!! -
> 
> “Run!” Thrawn barked, and then he was gone, tearing past Nightswan as the rumbling crescendoed, and to Nightswan’s horror, he finally saw what Thrawn had heard. It started almost gently, puffs of snow floating off the cliff above the clearing, flocks of birds soaring away into the darkening sky, but Nightswan had been on-planet long enough to know what was coming. 
> 
> An avalanche.

Nightswan hesitated a second longer, glancing first at his speeder, then Thrawn’s shuttle, before turning and racing after the Imperial. Thrawn would have gone for his ship if he thought they had the time, and he clearly thought otherwise. 

Thrawn had a head start on him, and it was apparent he had maintained the strong build he possessed when the Empire first discovered him. Nightswan almost lost sight of him, his white Imperial winter gear blending in with the snow as he darted with stunning alacrity into the tree line, and to Nightswan’s astonishment, Thrawn stopped and turned around. 

"This way!” Thrawn called, gesturing over his shoulder before plunging deeper into the trees. Nightswan felt his blood run cold as he heard a tremendous _crack_ behind him, but he forced himself to not turn, to not look back at the certain destruction chasing them, and followed Thrawn into the forest. 

Nightswan had run for his life before — several times, in fact — but all those times had been different. Before, he had been chased by someone or something he could hide from, a hunter that if he was smart enough, could evade with ease. Never before had he run from a force so cold and uncaring as what chased him now; nothing else mattered besides the strength in his legs and the air burning in his lungs. It was as though the world he was working so hard to protect had turned against him — the ground was treacherous, roots and rocks and branches threatening to trip him, to doom him to be consumed by the mountain’s snowy fury, and he allowed himself to feel a sharp anger at the unjustness of it all as he tore through the trees, hoping, praying Thrawn knew a path to safety. 

Nightswan began to fear that his legs would give out, that exhaustion would overtake him and he would find himself buried and frozen and dead, when Thrawn skidded to a halt next to a massive tree, its trunk as wide as three men. 

“Here!” Thrawn barked over the roaring behind them, glancing over his shoulder as though to check Nightswan was still with him before _leaping_ into the air and catching one of the tree’s lower branches. 

“I— I can’t make that— that jump!” Nightswan panted, staring upward in dismay at the Admiral as he swung himself onto the branch. 

Thrawn didn’t reply, merely wrapping himself around the branch and wordlessly extending a hand down to Nightswan. 

“Oh, _hells_ ,” Nightswan swore, and he forced his aching legs forward and took a running leap, both hands reaching desperately for Thrawn. 

Thrawn grunted as he grabbed Nightswan, using the momentum of his jump to swing him upward, and Nightswan was fairly certain it was a miracle he managed to grapple a leg onto the thick branch and clamber up beside Thrawn.

“Climb,” Thrawn said, and he was in motion again, standing on the branch and grabbing at the one above them, scrambling up the tree like a tooka chasing a sprite. Nightswan followed, grateful that his arms weren’t as taxed as his legs, determinedly not looking down as they ascended the towering tree and doing his best to ignore the rapidly approaching roar of the avalanche. 

He nearly lost his grip when the wave of snow hit the tree, its trunk shuddering beneath his hands and its stressed wood creaking, the wretched sound audible even over the gale of snow below, and Thrawn again glanced over his shoulder down at him. 

“Hold on!” Thrawn called, stopping his climb to grapple a thick branch. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” Nightswan snarled, dropping to his stomach to wrap himself around his own branch. 

Thrawn didn’t reply, and Nightswan closed his eyes as the tree trembled and shook, praying to whatever gods he could think of that it would hold against the wave of snow. He didn’t know how long he stayed there, clinging to the branch and pressing his face into the cold bark, when finally, _finally_ , the roar began to lessen and fade as the avalanche passed them by. 

The sound had all but disappeared when Thrawn spoke. “We should wait to ensure there are no others following,” he said, and Nightswan opened his eyes to peer up at him. 

“You think there will be more?” He asked, willing his voice not to shake. 

Thrawn cocked his head, and Nightswan realized he was listening for more cascading snow. “I do not think so,” he said after a moment, turning his glowing eyes back to Nightswan. “But we should wait regardless. If I am wrong…”

“We’d be fucked,” Nightswan finished for him, sitting up on his branch. He sighed heavily, situating himself to lean against the trunk of the tree and patting his pocket to make sure his datapad was still there. Satisfied that it was, he looked back up at Thrawn. “Do you think our rides survived?”

Thrawn had also settled on his branch, one long leg dangling over the side. “No,” he said without looking down. “Commodore Faro is not going to be pleased.”

Nightswan barked a short laugh. “No offense, but from what I’ve heard, that happens a lot with you two.”

Thrawn glanced down at him, mild curiosity present on his sharp features. “How do you know this?”

Nightswan shrugged. “Trade secret.”

“Of course.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, and Nightswan took the time to take stock of the situation. He had nearly ruined his gloves in their climb, some parts of the palms torn straight through, and he had lost his woolen hat somewhere along the way. He still had the thick hood on his jacket, at least, but night was falling, and the temperature would drop precipitously once it did. That would be a problem — without the shelter of his speeder, freezing to death was a very real possibility. 

He surreptitiously glanced up at Thrawn, and saw the Imperial was in worse shape than he. It was clear his regulation winter-wear, a more bulked up version of his usual white uniform, wasn’t intended for actual survival. Nightswan shook his head. High Command probably expected its officers to stay holed up in their ships, leaving the hard work— and the danger— to the unfortunate grunts. 

But if the cold that had to be seeping through the gaps and tears in his uniform bothered Thrawn, he didn’t show it. He lounged against the trunk, eyes scanning the terrain through the branches, and he casually brought a hand up to smooth back his dark hair as though the idea of appearing uncouth offended him. 

Nightswan rolled his eyes and pulled out his datapad. Of course Thrawn would look completely put together despite their dire circumstances. 

“Got anyone coming for you?” Nightswan asked, pulling open the list of emergency safe houses his team had set up. He hadn’t seen Thrawn pull out a comm, but he might have other ways of contacting his people. 

Thrawn glanced down at him. “If we stay in this general area, I expect a team would find me by morning. Though that depends on the severity of the coming storm.” He turned back to the darkening sky, and a fresh gust of bitter wind swirled around them ominously. 

Nightswan frowned. “You don’t have a way of contacting them?”

In response, Thrawn pulled a mess of electronics from a pocket of his jacket. “I was not as cautious in our climb as I should have been.”

Nightswan studied the ruined comm and sighed. “I’m out of range of my people, with my speeder destroyed. But…” He trailed off, eyes running over the list of safe houses. “We’ve got a hidey-hole a couple klicks west. If we head out soon, we should get there before we freeze to death.”

Thrawn arched a brow. “You would take me to your compatriots?”

Nightswan laughed. “Sorry to disappoint, but not that kind of hidey-hole. Just a safe house, for these sorts of situations. Unless some of my team were out and about without my knowledge and were somehow as unlucky as us, no one will be there.”

Thrawn nodded, and Nightswan continued. “And you won’t find anything interesting about us there, either. We aren’t stupid enough to leave things lying around,” he added firmly.

“I did not think you would be,” Thrawn said mildly, and he stood up on his branch. “We should get moving before the storm arrives.”

"Agreed.” Nightswan sighed, stretching his legs before he rolled off his branch and began to carefully climb down. He was amazed at how high he and Thrawn had managed to make it, and his arms, still tired from their frantic climb, had begun to tremble before they reached the ground. 

“Great,” Nightswan said through gritted teeth as he dropped to the snow below, sinking to his thighs in the fresh powder. “This is going to be a wonderful walk in the woods.”

Thrawn dropped down beside him, somehow only sinking to his knees. “You do not have much experience in snowy conditions,” he said mildly. Nightswan rolled his eyes. 

“And you do? Something about Star Destroyer climate control I don’t know about?”

Thrawn merely looked at him, a corner of his lips quirking in amusement. “Would you like me to lead?”

Nightswan shook his head, jaw set. “I’m not giving you my datapad.”

Thrawn shrugged, that annoying smile still on his face. “I will walk ahead, and you can direct me. It will make it easier for you.”

“Why do you want to help me?” Nightswan snapped, realizing he sounded standoffish and not caring much. He couldn’t afford to forget Thrawn was his enemy, despite their current shared misfortune. 

“It will be slower if you are in front,” Thrawn said, ignoring Nightswan’s sharp tone.

Nightswan scowled. “Fine.” He pulled out his datapad and glanced down at the coordinates. His datapad’s navigation was tied to the planet’s meager system of positional satellites, and the information provided was spotty in the best of times. With the storm approaching, it was nearly useless, but he still had cardinal directions to work with. 

"Alright, that way,” Nightswan said, checking the coordinates a final time and pointing through the trees. “Straight for a while; I let you know when we should angle east.”

Thrawn wordlessly turned and set off through the snow, cutting a path that Nightswan followed. He wondered if now would be a good time to bring up whatever Thrawn had wanted to talk about— whatever it was that had gotten them into this mess— but the wind had picked up to a low, swirling howl, and conversation would be difficult. 

Instead, Nightswan tasked himself with planning his next move. Once they got to the safe house, he might be able to call his people and let them know where he was. If he could, barring another massive storm, he could be back at base by tomorrow afternoon. But there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to do that— they hadn’t had enough spare comm equipment to outfit every safe house with a long range transmitter, and it was about a fifty-fifty shot he would find what he needed. 

The alternative, sitting and waiting to be found, was less than palatable. Nightswan had trained his team in a search pattern that guaranteed no one would be stuck at a safe house for longer than a week. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but the idea of spending a week with Thrawn, holed up in what amounted to a one-room shack, wasn’t his idea of a good time. At least, not in these circumstances. If Thrawn hadn’t been his enemy, he was certain they would get along splendidly. Discussing politics, tactics, history. But that wasn’t the case. 

Which led him to the other, more glaring issue. What would happen if Thrawn’s people found them first?

Nightswan did his best to ignore the churn of worry in his gut as he called out an adjustment to their hike to Thrawn. He wasn’t worried the Imperials would kill him. They answered to Thrawn, and Thrawn had basically saved his life twice in the past hour. No, death from blasterfire wasn’t immediately on the table. 

But the possibility of capture was. 

It bothered Nightswan that he couldn’t be certain what would happen. He was a planner, a strategist, and the idea of an unforeseeable future was anathema to his entire being. He was used to factoring in uncertainties in battle; even then, unseen events could be accounted for with the right preparation. But here? In this situation?

His fate hinged on what Thrawn wanted from him. And as to that, he had no idea. 

Nightswan scowled for what felt like the hundredth time today, clapping a hand to his head to keep his hood on in the gusty wind and fiercely missing his woolen cap. It had begun to snow, the light was fading fast, and it felt like the temperature dropped a few degrees with every step. Visibility had dropped dramatically with the snowfall and sunset, and every muscle in his body ached. At least their path had taken them away from the fresh snow of the avalanche, making the trek easier, but that fact did little to lift his mood. He allowed himself to brood, to stew in his frustrations as though his anger could somehow keep him warm in the building snow storm, and after what felt like far too long, he and Thrawn finally reached a break in the trees.

“Where do we go from here?” Thrawn asked as Nightswan stepped up besides him. With the cover of the trees gone, the wind threatened to toss Nightswan off his feet and Thrawn almost had to shout to be heard over it. 

Nightswan consulted his datapad, squinting in the bright light from the screen. “Should be… Straight ahead of us. Maybe two hundred meters,” Nightswan shouted through chattering teeth. He couldn’t see more than a few meters in front of him now, but one foot in front of the other would carry them to safety. 

“Does your datapad have topographic information?” Thrawn shouted.

“What?” Nightswan could hardly hear him for the wind. 

“The lay of the land!” Thrawn called back.

“No! Not without a connection to the positioning system.” Nightswan wondered if he should elaborate, but Thrawn cut in.

“How have you been navigating in the first place?” He asked sharply, and Nightswan realized his red eyes actually glowed in the dark as Thrawn peered down at him, brow furrowed. 

“It’s a local ping to a transponder in the safe house!” Nightswan called back, frustrated that Thrawn had asked. He could conceivably use that information to track down other safe houses, and possibly their stores of weapons and other supplies. But Nightswan had heard Thrawn use that tone of voice before, and knew he wouldn’t continue on unless Nightswan told him. He made a mental note to change their tech strategy, and turned back to the datapad. “It’s definitely straight ahead of us.”

Thrawn continued to frown, pursing his lips, and Nightswan wondered what had him so bothered. He was beginning to get annoyed with all this, the waiting and the questioning and the cold and the uncertainty, and he was just about to say so when Thrawn spoke.

“You lead,” Thrawn said finally, gesturing to the datapad. “Use the light from your datapad. The path may be treacherous.”

“How do I know you won’t kill me once my back is turned?” Nightswan spat, giving vent to his frustrations. 

“If I wanted to kill you, I’ve already had plenty of opportunities to do so,” Thrawn said darkly, and a chill unrelated to the cold ran down Nightswan’s spine. “Go. I will follow.”

“That’s comforting,” Nightswan said sarcastically, but trudged forward, flipping his datapad over to light the way. He had turned the brightness up all the way, and it provided sufficient illumination for their task. The light also showed that the path was quite the opposite of what Thrawn had said— the ground was smooth and level, with no trees, roots, or stones peeking up out of the snow. The wind was even more bitter out here, without the cover of the trees, but that also meant it whipped away most of the snow on the ground, making their hike immeasurably easier on the legs. 

They had made it a few dozen meters before Nightswan’s curiosity finally got the better of him and he looked over his shoulder at Thrawn to ask what he had been talking about. 

“The path’s— Why are you so far back?” Nightswan called, frowning and stopping when he saw that Thrawn had dropped well back behind him, his glowing eyes the only eerie indication of where he was.

Thrawn stopped as well. “I believe we are walking out onto a lake,” Thrawn shouted over the wind, and as though in response to his statement, a low, rumbling _crack_ shuddered under Nightswan’s feet.

Nightswan felt his eyes go wide and he stood stock-still, waiting to see if the ice beneath his feet would give way. But the rumbling stopped, and Nightswan stared back at Thrawn. 

“We must go back!” Thrawn called, and without waiting for Nightswan's reply, he turned, the glow of his eyes disappearing and his figure swallowed up by the blowing snow. 

Nightswan opened his mouth to reply— how would they find their way around the lake if they couldn’t _see_? But he knew it was pointless. Thrawn had already made his decision, and Nightswan doubted he could change the admiral’s mind. He begrudgingly turned as well, retracing his steps. The ice remained silent as he walked, and he had almost allowed himself to relax when his day went to hell for the second time. 

Nightswan knew from the moment he put his foot down that his luck had run out, and suddenly the next thing he knew, the _only_ thing he knew, was _cold_. 

It was a cold like he had never felt before— so cold he had to be on fire, there was no other possible answer for the sharp, shattering _pain_ he felt as he plunged into the lake. He felt the air leave his lungs in a rush as his muscles constricted, nerves screaming as the frigid water soaked his clothing, and he scrambled blindly as he fell, losing his datapad as he frantically clawed at the edge of the ice. He couldn’t even draw breath to cry for Thrawn, to shout for help, and the only thing he could think of besides _pain_ was _hold on_ as his forearms found purchase on the ice. 

Nightswan didn’t know if he blacked out from the shock, or if without the datapad the storm had brought total darkness around them, or if his eyes had simply stopped working in protest of the water’s brutal torment to his body. But after both an eternity and no time at all of seeing nothing but blackness enveloping the world, two glowing spots of red appeared beside him.

“I’ve got you,” Thrawn said, and Nightswan wanted to laugh. Thrawn was on his _belly_ , scooting across the ice like some sort of snake, and he was vaguely aware of Thrawn grasping his arms.

“You have to kick, Nightswan,” Thrawn said, and the words had a funny echo in Nightswan’s mind. Kick? Kick what? Kick Thrawn? He couldn’t even tell if he had legs, if he had _ever_ had legs; his brain refused to acknowledge that part of his body and Nightswan wanted to giggle at the absurdity of it all. 

But when he tried to draw a breath to laugh in Thrawn’s face, he found that he couldn’t, and he panicked. He felt his eyes go wide, and he thrashed about in the water, trying to run, to escape the burning that was quickly becoming numbness that was threatening to swallow him, drown him, bury him in snow—

“Swim! Kick your legs, and swim out!” Thrawn barked, and some small part of Nightswan’s brain realized that was an order, and he was a solider, and he could follow orders—

“Yes! Continue!” Thrawn cried, and Nightswan felt Thrawn loop his arms under his shoulders, and Nightswan kicked his legs and he felt himself rise out of the water, just a fraction. 

“Do not stop, keep kicking!” Nightswan listened, and he kicked as hard as he could, propelling himself out of the lake and grasping onto Thrawn as slowly, slowly, they made their way across the ice on their bellies until finally he was free. 

"No,” Thrawn said sharply as Nightswan tried to curl into a ball, make himself small and warm. “ _Keep moving._ We cannot stop. We must get off the ice and find shelter.”

Nightswan tried to protest, tried to explain that he just needed a moment to warm himself up, but his chattering jaw refused to cooperate. 

“Come, like this,” Thrawn said, and he turned on his belly, one hand grasping the back of Nightswan’s jacket as he crawled forward, pulling Nightswan with him. “We must go.”

From there, the only thing Nightswan knew was cold, and pain, and numbness, then nothing. 


	3. (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any who are just here for delicious, filthy smut, you're in the right place! 
> 
> If you're only keen on plot - do not despair, there will be more to come in the next chapter! 
> 
> A brief recap from the end of last chapter:
> 
> _"No,” Thrawn said sharply as Nightswan tried to curl into a ball, make himself small and warm. “Keep moving. We cannot stop. We must get off the ice and find shelter.”_
> 
> _From there, the only thing Nightswan knew was cold, and pain, and numbness, then nothing._

Nightswan drifted up out of sleep. He was still exhausted, his body aching, and his mind shied back from the distant thought of surfacing fully into the waking world.

“Mmf…” He shifted and rolled over, vaguely aware of warmth and a pleasant, musky scent. He cuddled closer to it, pressing into that warm body without opening his eyes. 

With a leg tangled between his and the comforting weight of an arm over his waist, he drifted off again, warm and content and relaxed. 

* * *

Some time later, feeling more rested but still sleepy and lethargic, Nightswan found himself pulled gradually up out of dreams about… something… _nice._ He’d been pulled awake, he slowly realized, by the feeling of a hand on his cock, tugging at him in an unusual but extremely pleasant gentle twisting motion. 

A sleepy hum rose in his throat and he rolled his hips lazily into the touch, his lips curving in a smile and eyes finally fluttering open as he leaned in to kiss—

Thrawn. 

Nightswan froze in shock with their lips mere centimeters apart; then drew back slowly. Carefully. 

Why the _hell_ was he in bed with _Thrawn?_

Like a temperamental speeder, Nightswan’s brain finally coughed into gear and the disastrous events of his meeting with Thrawn crashed through his mind all at once. The avalanche; the long trek towards the safehouse through the growing storm; then falling through the ice and being sure he was done for, until _Thrawn_ came back and dragged him out. The rest was hazy and incomplete, his memories dominated almost entirely by the sensation of _cold;_ a horrible, painful, bone-deep cold that had very quickly become a numb, uncaring stupour. And then… 

Blankness, interspersed with fleeting, indistinct images of Thrawn, like blurred snapshots through time. Thrawn holding him upright while they stumbled through the wind-whipped snow. Thrawn stripping them both of their wet, half-frozen clothes and bundling him into the small cot. Thrawn curled up tightly behind him, both of them shivering violently. 

Now, though; now, he was warm and they were facing each other, legs entwined and hips pressed together and— Thrawn squeezed his cock again and Nightswan bit back a groan, trying to shove the last fuzziness of sleep from his clouded mind. Perhaps most confusing was the fact that Thrawn _looked_ sound asleep, relaxed; his blue-black hair tousled and falling over his forehead, the red glow of his eyes shuttered behind closed lids, his mouth slack and his breathing slow and steady… But the hand sliding up and down Nightswan’s cock was _slick,_ he must have… 

Nightswan blinked. There was no way Thrawn should even be able to _reach_ him like this. His head was resting on Thrawn’s arm and Thrawn’s other arm was around his waist and— 

And that was _not_ a hand. 

His eyes widened and he stopped breathing for a moment as a second… _something_ coiled slowly down the length of his cock alongside the first one. 

Quivering under the slightly unsettling— and incredibly arousing— onslaught of sensation, Nightswan tried to glance down between them, but they were lying so close together he couldn’t see anything under the blanket. Nothing except an enticing expanse of bare, muscular blue chest, anyway. 

The incongruous thought filtered through his brain that Thrawn must have found and turned on the space heater at some point before they went to sleep, because although they were naked and the metallic emergency blanket was pushed halfway down the bed, he wasn’t cold— and then coherency disappeared as yet another _something_ wrapped around his cock. 

They almost felt like… _tentacles,_ all three of them slick and warm as they repeatedly coiled and uncoiled on his cock, moving almost in unison now, tugging and squeezing incessantly. _Insistently._

His breathing fast and shallow, Nightswan bit his lip to keep silent, the confusing mix of panic and lust growing stronger. He _knew_ he should wake Thrawn up, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it; a part of him not wanting to face the inevitable embarrassment and hoping Thrawn would just stop of his own accord, and the rest of him not wanting Thrawn to stop at all because it just felt _so_ fucking _good._

He was just coming to the dawning realization that Thrawn wasn’t going to stop, and that he risked winding up in an even more embarrassing situation as a result, when the tentacles _shifted_ and pulled him _inside Thrawn._

A startled gasp escaped his lips as wet heat closed around his cockhead— the tentacles tightened on his shaft— and Thrawn woke up. 

Red eyes opened, widening as they met his. Nightswan felt the tremor that ran through Thrawn briefly before the Imperial went stiff against him with a sharp intake of breath, the tentacles stilling but remaining wrapped around his cock. 

“I— I wasn’t… I didn’t—” Nightswan stammered. “I just… woke up and you— you were…” 

Thrawn’s breath was hot in the tiny space between them, his chest heaving against Nightswan’s. “You did not stop me.” 

It was halfway between a question and a statement, and Nightswan flushed with muddled embarrassment, desire, and shame, not sure if Thrawn wanted a reason or an apology. 

“I—” he started, his eyes darting down to Thrawn’s mouth, slightly open and so near his own— 

Before he could work out what the _hell_ to even say, Thrawn leaned in and met his lips in a brief, hard kiss that was somehow both urgent and tentative at the same time, before abruptly breaking away again. 

They stared at one another in silence for the space of a heartbeat or two— and then crashed together in another kiss, this one _hungry,_ demanding and intense. Nightswan couldn’t say if he had kissed Thrawn or Thrawn had kissed him, but he _really_ didn’t care, his lips parting eagerly for Thrawn’s tongue and his needy whimper lost in Thrawn’s mouth. His hips twitched, almost of their own volition, and the tentacles immediately began moving once more, tugging him even further inside Thrawn’s tight, wet heat. 

Thoughts of caution and consequence were swallowed up in the maelstrom of sensation; Thrawn’s arms tightening around his back, tongue moving hot and slick against his own, and above all, that wonderful, squeezing pressure twisting up and down his cock. Unable to stop himself, Nightswan thrust jerkily forward with a stifled groan, and Thrawn gasped against his lips, fingers digging into his back. 

Half his cock was buried inside Thrawn now, the tentacles coiled firmly around the base of his shaft; but the tips were still moving, twining hot and slippery against his skin, two following the lines of his hips and one sliding down past his balls. Pressing himself harder against Thrawn and sliding his knee over the outside of the admiral’s thigh, Nightswan pushed deeper with a whimper, needing, wanting _more._

Thrawn quivered against him, breaking the kiss with a deep groan and panting for breath. Half-lidded, glowing red eyes met Nightswan’s again as Thrawn ran his hand down Nightswan’s back to grip his ass, pulling him closer, spreading him open— Nightswan gasped as the tentacles coiled further around his cock and a warm wet touch slid over his hole— 

And then Thrawn was inside him, the tapered, slick tip of the admiral’s tentacle slipping easily into his entrance, pushing in and pulling back over and over again, moving in tandem with the rhythmic tugging at his cock. 

Nightswan shuddered, his hips jerking again as Thrawn pressed deeper inside him with a low, broken moan. He didn’t really _need_ to keep thrusting, but he did anyway, fucking into Thrawn with shallow, jerky motions; fucking himself into the slick grip of the admiral’s tentacles, matching their pulsing rhythm as best he could and drawing desperate, panting moans from Thrawn to mingle with his own. 

They couldn’t have held each other closer if they tried; and they _did_ try, arms wrapped around one another and hands clutching in a bruisingly tight embrace, his leg up over Thrawn’s hip and Thrawn’s hooked around his other thigh. Thrawn buried his face into Nightswan’s neck, biting and sucking, sending electric jolts of _pleasurepain_ zinging up and down his spine, and Nightswan nipped at his ear, licked trails up the side of Thrawn’s neck, the lightly salty taste of fresh sweat coating his tongue. 

He’d never felt _anything_ like this before and he just couldn’t stop _moaning,_ his fingers raking trails down Thrawn’s back and his whole body trembling and shaking as his tension built higher. It was nearly impossible to separate the individual sensations anymore, moving inside Thrawn while Thrawn moved inside him; the steady pulsing of Thrawn’s tentacles around the base of his cock driving the rhythm of their not-quite-thrusts into one another. 

The pace increased agonizingly slowly; their hips rocking in unison and the _pulsing squeezing sliding_ pressure building the fire in his core higher and higher until Nightswan thought he might go mad, nearly sobbing with pleasure and need combined. Thrawn’s breath was coming in short, sharp panting grunts and moans against his skin; and the admiral’s name fell unbidden from his lips, the gasped word breaking the dam and letting loose a flood of barely coherent pleas. 

“ _Thrawn,_ fuck— please, I’m so close, I need— more, yes _yes— fuck—_ ” 

Thrawn _whimpered_ and went rigid, his teeth sank into Nightswan’s neck, and his tentacles contracted and then _pulsed._ A gush of thick, wet heat coated Nightswan’s cock, his balls, even his belly, some of it filling his ass and spilling down onto his inner thigh. Thrawn was gasping and shuddering in his arms, spasming around his cock; and as the tentacles loosened ever so slightly while they twitched, Nightswan thrust harder, fucking into their slick grip with a strangled, desperate moan, fucking into _Thrawn—_ once, twice, three more times— 

And then he was finally coming, and coming _hard;_ release crashing through him in dizzying waves as his cock throbbed and pulsed out into Thrawn’s still-clenching heat. He could hardly breathe, his whimpering gasps for air muffled into Thrawn’s shoulder while he shook his way through the last of his orgasm. 

Thrawn was trembling, twitching against him and panting harshly for breath, his tentacles still moving and squeezing— much slower and softer now, but Nightswan finally had to pull away nonetheless. 

“Ahh— sorry, I can’t— it gets… oversensitive, pretty fast,” he managed to explain, moving a hand down to gently extricate his spent cock from the tentacles’ grip. To his surprise, he felt them immediately coil around his hand instead, wrapping loosely around his palm and twining up his wrist. 

“Apologies,” Thrawn murmured, nuzzling into Nightswan’s neck before pressing a trail of soft kisses along his jaw. 

Nightswan couldn’t help the quiet, humming sigh that escaped him; and with a mental shrug, he turned his head to meet Thrawn’s mouth with his once more. They could figure out what exactly had just happened… later. 

His eyes drifted shut as they explored each other again with lips and teeth and tongues; but slowly this time, blissfully lazy and unhurried. He could feel Thrawn relaxing against him as their breathing steadied, and the tentacles gradually stilled and withdrew. 

With another contented sigh, Nightswan slid his now-sticky hand over Thrawn’s hip and around to the admiral’s lower back, not quite able to summon enough energy to care that he was slipping back towards sleep again with Thrawn’s arms around him and their legs still tangled together. 

The talking could wait a little longer. 

* * *

When Nightswan woke up again, the bed was empty beside him. 

He groaned and stretched, wincing slightly at the aching tightness in what felt like every last muscle in his body, and finally sat up, looking around blearily. For a brief moment, he thought Thrawn had actually left— but then two glowing red eyes opened, looking back at him from the shadows on the far side of the room. 

“Your clothing has dried,” Thrawn said quietly. He was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, cross-legged and fully dressed, but Nightswan couldn’t make out his expression in the dim light. 

Feeling oddly self-conscious, considering what had happened earlier, Nightswan tugged the silvery blanket a little higher and glanced around. His clothes were indeed dry, folded and stacked neatly in a little pile next to the cot. 

“Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, keeping the blanket firmly in place with both hands. The bright red glow disappeared as Thrawn closed his eyes again without another word, and Nightswan took the opportunity to hop out of bed, grab his clothes, and disappear into the tiny refresher unit in the back corner of the safehouse. 

Alone in the cramped privacy of the ‘fresher, Nightswan leaned back against the door with another groan and looked down at himself. He was a bit of a mess; unsurprising, really, given what he had _felt_ when Thrawn came on— 

His legs went suddenly weak and wobbly under him at the vivid memory, renewed arousal lurching through his belly and making his head spin. He’d _come_ in _Thrawn._

Fuck. 

He’d just had half-asleep sex with one of the most infamous of the Imperial Grand Admirals, with his _enemy;_ they were trapped here together for who knew how long, and… and he still couldn’t bring himself to regret it for even a second. 

Nightswan sighed. Firmly ignoring the hopeful little twitch of his cock and willing away his already half-formed erection, he pulled out one of the waterless cleansing pads to give himself a much-needed sponge bath. 

It looked like he was going to have to sort out his deeper feelings towards Thrawn whether he wanted to or not… But first, they had to figure out how the hell they were both going to get out of this situation in one piece. 


	4. (SFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this one, that's in the next chapter ;)
> 
> Also, there is a character from the Tarkin novel mentioned here... If you haven't read that book, I really recommend it!
> 
> A quick sum up of the last smut chapter, if anyone decided to skip it but wants the general plot outline - 
> 
> After making it to the safe-house, Thrawn got them both out of their wet, half-frozen clothing before they fell asleep, sharing the only bed for body heat. Half asleep and still exhausted from their misadventure, they wound up almost-accidentally having sex before falling back to sleep in each other's arms. 
> 
> Now we arrive at Nightswan as he wakes up for the day, preparing to deal with the precarious situation they've found themselves in.
> 
> Enjoy! <3 <3

Still somewhat achy, but feeling about as refreshed as one could get given the circumstances, Nightswan was surprised when the scent of brewing caf met him as he reentered the common area. 

“I did not want to wake you,” Thrawn called over his shoulder from his place beside the sink in the small kitchenette. 

“Thank you, that’s…” Nightswan intended to say more but trailed off, watching in silence for a moment as Thrawn finished washing up a pair of mugs while the caf maker hissed and burbled happily away on the counter. The whole thing was oddly… domestic. Almost unsettling so, if he was being honest. 

The vaguely surreal image wasn’t helped by the fact that he hadn’t been _entirely_ correct about Thrawn being fully-dressed, either. Though Nightswan found the air still a touch chillier than he would have liked, Thrawn was padding about the room in his socks and wearing only a sleeveless black undershirt above his white uniform pants. A rather unnecessarily tight-fitting undershirt, really. Nightswan had never seen Thrawn in anything other than a uniform, and he found his eyes lingering on the very well-muscled blue arms as Thrawn set the clean mugs down on the counter. 

“I hope you do not mind me going through the pantry,” Thrawn said into his thoughts. Nightswan gave himself a little mental shake, angry at getting distracted. No matter how benign the scene in front of him was, Thrawn was his enemy. Full stop.

“Dunno if that caf is still good,” Nightswan said, crossing to Thrawn and grabbing one of the ration bars he had found. Judging from the empty wrapper, Thrawn had already eaten one. “It’s probably left over from the homeowner. We only stocked basic rations.”

Nightswan could feel Thrawn’s eyes on him as he turned and crossed back to the common area, searching the worn floorboards for the tell-tale clue he needed. The scrutiny annoyed him as he paced the room and unwrapped his ration bar— he had the feeling he was being appraised, and not in the way one enemy might measure another. Or maybe he was being paranoid. Just because he had been looking at Thrawn like that a moment ago didn’t mean Thrawn would do the same. Right.

As Nightswan raised the bar to his mouth, he made the mistake of glancing at Thrawn and their eyes met. It was a brief moment, but still stretched just long enough to become awkward. Thrawn arched a brow at him in an all-too-knowing expression and Nightswan quickly turned away, taking a rather violent bite of the ration bar and willing his cheeks not to flush. He kept his back to Thrawn as he scarfed down the rest of his bland breakfast, wishing the rations came in a less phallic shape and forcing himself to focus on his current task. By the time he finished the bar, he had found what he was looking for.

“All our safe houses belong to people in the movement,” Nightswan explained as he shoved the small dining table aside with a grunt. He got to his knees and began running his nails in between the wooden floorboards. He found himself wanting more light as he struggled to parse cracks from joins in the planks, and he wondered if the generators were fully functioning. 

“Once the Empire took over, they relocated hundreds of families to the city centers. Something about ‘creating a safer living environment’.” Nightswan continued as he finally found the groove he was looking for, and tried to find purchase on the edge of the floorboard. 

“Of course, it was just an excuse to keep people where they could watch them. Pass me a knife, would you?”

There was the sound of a drawer opening and some shuffling, then Thrawn appeared, handing Nightswan a small paring knife over his shoulder. Nightswan resolutely kept his eyes on the floorboard.

“Thanks. Anyway, once it became clear the people wanted to do something about the government here and they called me in, folks volunteered their old homes left and right as headquarters for the movement.” Nightswan wedged the knife between the floorboards and applied leverage, and finally the stubborn board popped up. 

“I vetoed that right away, since none of them were anywhere near secure enough. Ha! Here we go,” Nightswan said, reaching deep into the newly revealed cubby and pulling out a long-range transmitter. Vaguely, he realized he was rambling, chattering to fill the quiet, but the idea of Thrawn watching him on his knees in silence wasn’t something he wanted to deal with right now, so he kept up the commentary. 

“But they still wanted to help. And when we realized we might need places to lie low, or take shelter, we retrofitted dozens of them into safe houses.” He replaced the floorboard and stood, making space for Thrawn to push the table back into position. “If you’ve been poking around, you’ve probably noticed the other rooms are all sealed off. That’s to protect the privacy of the owner, since most weren’t able to bring all their belongings with them when they were relocated.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Thrawn asked, crossing back to the pot of caf as Nightswan sat at the table and began setting up the transmitter. 

Nightswan snorted, quickly searching for an innocuous reason to cover his chatter. “You’re already here; you would have figured it out. And besides, I think it’s important you know that the rebels aren't just hired mercenaries.” That much _was_ true, anyway. Nightswan glanced at Thrawn as he joined him at the table, accepting the mug of caf with a grunt of thanks. “They’re people, fighting for the right to go home.”

“I never thought they were mercenaries,” Thrawn said, watching Nightswan key the transmitter on. “Even with your leadership, their untrained and inefficient fighting style speaks to their history as civilians, for the most part.”

“They’re fighting as hard as they can,” Nightswan said bitterly, glaring at Thrawn across the table. “And they’re willing to die, if they have to.” 

“I understand,” was all Thrawn said before nodding to the transmitter. “Are you able to make contact?”

“Possibly.” Nightswan turned to his datapad. “The signal’s very weak, probably due to the storm.” He glanced out the small window of the living area, the world outside a blur of dark gray and dingy white. He wouldn’t have believed it nearly noon if his chrono hadn’t told him so.

“Judging from its current state and the forecasts I examined before leaving my ship, it will last well into the night,” Thrawn said gravely. “Possibly until morning.”

Nightswan nodded. “Storms like these are common here; the transmitter should be able to punch through.” As he spoke, his datapad gave a little _ping_. “Got it. Not a word,” Nightswan warned, and Thrawn inclined his head in a polite nod. 

_“Horizon Base. Code confirmation?”_ The voice on the other end was gruff, even through the staggering amount of static.

“Nern senth peth, from safe house oh-ten-five, code…” Nightswan paused, running the surname of the family who owned this particular home through their coded number system in his head. “Code five-one-two-nine-seven-two. Reissue code deduction via plan trill; I believe my connection may be compromised.”

There was the briefest of pauses before the voice spoke again. _“Acknowledged; connection is secure on our end, but we’ll put the order through. Status?”_

“Stable but stranded. ETA on a pick up?”

Another pause. _“Storm’s not supposed to let up until oh-five-hundred tomorrow, but we’ll send a team out as soon as it does. I’ll send confirmation once they leave, and they’ll ping you once they’re in range.”_

“Understood.” Nightswan raised a finger to cut the connection, but paused as the voice spoke again.

_“Glad to hear you’re alive, Boss.”_

Nightswan smiled. “Takes more than a storm to kill me, Teller. You of all people should know that. See you tomorrow.” Nightswan ended the transmission to find Thrawn eyeing him thoughtfully.

“Teller is his surname?” Thrawn asked with interest.

“Why do you care?” Nightswan retorted suspiciously, internally cursing his own sloppiness at giving away Berch's name. He was in for an earful when he got back. If he told anyone about the meeting with Thrawn, anyway. 

Thrawn didn’t reply, and Nightswan turned the transmitter off a little more aggressively than he should have. This was exactly what he had been afraid of— he was becoming complacent. Last night didn’t matter. Thrawn was still his enemy, no matter how kriffing hot he was. “So. You heard him. When can we expect your people to come knocking?” Nightswan said, forcefully redirecting the conversation.

“They will not come here,” Thrawn said, taking a casual sip of his caf. “When the storm lessens, I will return to my ship. It will undoubtedly have been buried in the avalanche, but its emergency beacon should still be functioning. My team will collect me there well before your people arrive here.”

“And what do you plan to tell them?” Nightswan asked. If Thrawn turned back around once he got picked up and came for him, Nightswan was in serious trouble. His own rescue presumably wouldn’t arrive until several hours after Thrawn’s. 

“That one of your rebels had defected and wanted to meet with me,” Thrawn said; then raised his shoulders in a subtle shrug, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “Unfortunately, the avalanche prevented our meeting, and the defector was killed.”

“How did you survive the storm? Are you going to tell them about this place?” Nightswan’s heart sank as he thought about telling the family their home had been compromised.

“There are a series of caves embedded in the cliff adjacent to our meeting point, not unlike the ones your rebels now occupy,” Thrawn said. “That, combined with my crew’s lack of knowledge regarding my specific biology, will suffice.”

For one wild moment, Nightswan wondered if Thrawn’s medical officer knew what was hiding in the admiral’s pants, but he shoved the thought away. “I have your word no one will come for me?”

“You do,” Thrawn said solemnly. “I have nothing to gain from your death, nor your capture. I have already had many chances to attain either, and have not done so.”

Nightswan nodded, chewing his lower lip. “Alright,” he said after a long moment. Thrawn’s statement wasn’t exactly comforting, but if Thrawn didn’t want him dead, it probably meant the admiral had some use for him. In these sorts of situations, that need had kept him alive before, and he could accept that. And surprisingly… he trusted the admiral’s word. 

That thought was a jarring one, and Nightswan abruptly stood from the table, leaving his caf untouched. Polite though it was for Thrawn to make them caf, the friendly gesture made Nightswan uncomfortable in a way he wasn’t quite ready to examine too closely. Not just yet, anyway. 

“I’m going to go see what’s going on with the generators; the lights really shouldn’t be this dim,” Nightswan said briskly. But as he turned away from the table, he paused. “Were you able to get your comm fixed?” he asked, looking back at Thrawn.

“I have not yet examined it,” Thrawn said. 

Nightswan glanced at the transmitter sitting on the table. Without a comm on both ends, it was just a glorified signal booster. But if Thrawn was able to get even part of his comm functional again, he might be able to reach his crew. Teller’s words flitted through his mind. _Glad to hear you’re alive, Boss._

“See if you can get what’s left hooked up to that,” Nightswan said, making up his mind and nodding to the transmitter. “I don’t want your people thinking we kidnapped you and launching an assault on our base to get you back.”

“They would not do so, but it would be prudent to attempt to contact them regardless,” Thrawn said, leaning forward and examining the transmitter. “I will see if it is possible. Thank you.”

\---

Nightswan deposited himself in one of the rickety chairs next to the small dining table with a sigh. 

He was bored. 

In his inspection of the generators, he had discovered one of the two wasn’t working at all, and had spent several hours taking it apart to find the source of the problem. Thrawn had offered to help after Nightswan pinched a finger in the housing and swore loudly, but Nightswan turned him down. He was already having enough trouble trying to distract himself as it was, and knew he would not like where his mind went if he had to work in close quarters with Thrawn repairing the generator together. 

Working alone meant it had taken quite a while to fix the damn thing, and Nightswan took his time effecting the repair in the first place. But he couldn’t draw out that distraction any longer once the lights brightened, indicating his success. 

After that, Nightswan had given the place a thorough cleaning, sweeping up the accumulated dust and reorganizing the ration stores. Thrawn had helped with that, this time without asking, but kept his distance as they quietly worked. He seemed to sense that Nightswan didn’t want to talk. At least, not yet. Or maybe he saw no need to talk at all, for all Nightswan knew. 

With nothing left to clean, fix, or organize, Nightswan had then absconded to the bunk with his datapad and tried to distract himself with an old holo-novel he had stored on the thing. Thrawn meanwhile returned to the dining table and his broken comm, and the atmosphere would have been almost comfortable if Nightswan hadn’t been internally battling his emotions. 

Said battle mainly consisted of trying _not_ to think about Thrawn. He kept repeating to himself that Thrawn was his enemy. What happened last night had clearly been an accident, had no bearing on their current situation, and— most importantly— would never bear on any future situation they found themselves in. Nightswan refused to let that happen. It didn’t matter how incongruous the whole thing was, finding Thrawn a gentle, yet passionate lover despite his reputation as a ruthless Imperial Grand Admiral. It didn’t matter how politely and respectfully Thrawn had been treating him. They were forever on opposite sides, no matter their personal mannerisms. 

Yet for all the effort it was taking not to think about Thrawn, Nightswan still found himself antsy. It wasn’t like him to sit in one place for too long with nothing to do. 

Abruptly, he realized his current attempts to distract himself were failing, and decided on a new tactic. That’s what good tacticians did, right? He ignored the little voice in his head admonishing him for forgetting about the reason for this mess in the first place.

“So. Since we have the time, mind telling me why you wanted to meet in the first place?” Nightswan asked without preamble, kicking his feet up onto an adjacent chair. “That avalanche was a rather rude interruption.” 

Thrawn looked up from the table where he had been fiddling with the destroyed remains of his comm. “Yes, if you are ready to discuss it.”

“No time like the present,” Nightswan said lightly.

Thrawn eyed him for a moment, setting down the spanner in his hand. “Before we begin, I would also like to add that what has… transpired between us, has not changed what I wanted to discuss in any way.”

The statement surprised Nightswan— he wasn’t sure if Thrawn had even given last night a passing thought at all. He had seemed completely relaxed and unperturbed throughout the day, though if Nightswan was being honest with himself, he didn’t really know how Thrawn normally carried himself. In any case, Nightswan didn’t know how to reply to Thrawn’s statement, not without knowing exactly what Thrawn wanted to talk about, so he merely shrugged and leaned back in his chair. Might as well get comfortable. He crossed his arms behind his head and didn’t miss the way Thrawn’s eyes briefly flicked down his body before returning to his face. 

Interesting.

Thrawn cleared his throat pointedly and leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands in front of him on the small table. “You remember our shared interest in the Empire’s secret construction project?”

Nightswan scowled, thoughts of Thrawn’s wandering gaze vanishing in a cloud of suspicion. “I do, and if you’re about to ask me to—”

Thrawn raised a hand, cutting Nightswan off. “This will go more smoothly if you allow me to explain.”

Nightswan studied Thrawn for a moment before grumpily crossing his arms across his chest and giving Thrawn a curt nod.

“Thank you.” Thrawn inclined his head and continued. “I hope our interest is still shared, because I am now in a situation where you will be uniquely useful, if you choose to act on the information I am about to give you.”

Nightswan opened his mouth, again to reiterate that he wouldn’t abandon the people of this planet to satisfy Thrawn’s whims, but a pointed look from Thrawn stopped him.

“You asked me why I did not take the freighter I stole from you to our clandestine meeting,” Thrawn said.

“You said it was ‘otherwise engaged’,” Nightswan said, eyeing Thrawn shrewdly. What was he playing at?

Thrawn nodded. “Yes. I arranged for it to be stolen from me by Saw Gerrera.”

Nightswan felt his jaw drop. _Saw Gerrera?_ Surely Thrawn was joking. The man was an extremist, a killer. A rebel, yes, but not one Nightswan would ever consider working with. He thought Thrawn had at least _some_ standards.

“You’re telling me you’re working with Gerrera?” Nightswan asked when his brain restarted. “ _The_ Saw Gerrera?”

To his surprise, Thrawn chuckled. “‘Working with’ is an incorrect term. Gerrera did not know I intended for him to steal the ship.”

“Explain,” Nightswan said, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward. 

“I learned that Gerrera has also heard of the Empire’s secret project, and that he is actively trying to discern its exact location and purpose, among other things. However, unlike you, Gerrera is not open to meeting with me and sharing resources.”

Nightswan bit back his retort— he wasn’t open to _sharing resources_ with Thrawn either, but the turn of phrase wasn’t worth arguing about. 

“So instead of working with him directly, I arranged for a tracking program to be installed in the freighter’s secondary navigation computer,” Thrawn continued, ignoring Nightswan’s sour expression. “Gerrera’s tactics are well known and predictable. It was easy to leave the freighter near the site of one of his operations and disable another of his ships, necessitating the freighter’s theft.”

“And Gerrera somehow missed the tracking program?” Nightswan scoffed. “The man’s the definition of paranoid. There’s no way he didn’t scrub that ship clean.”

Thrawn nodded. “You are correct. He did indeed perform his usual due diligence with the freighter’s systems; we installed a dummy program that would notify us once it was discovered. However, the program we have been using to monitor his movements is one personally developed by Colonel Yularen and not in common circulation. Additionally, word reached the ISB that Gerrera lost, or abandoned, his cell’s most skilled slicer. Without her, Yularen felt it unlikely Gerrera would discover the program, and authorized my use of it.”

“If the ISB gave you the go-ahead for all of this, what do you need me for?” Nightswan asked with a frown. Thrawn’s explanation had sent a chill down his spine— it was clear the Empire had far more information on Gerrera, and likely other rebels cells, than he was comfortable with.

“The ISB did not authorize this endeavor,” Thrawn said quietly. “As I said, Colonel Yularen devised the program himself. This is a… personal project for me, one that Yularen thinks could prove useful in the future.”

Nightswan laughed. This was ridiculous. “You really expect me to believe that the director of the ISB knows exactly where Saw Gerrera is, and isn’t going for him, blasters hot?”

“Gerrera is a nuisance, yes, but hardly a major threat to the Empire as a whole,” Thrawn said mildly. “You once told me you dreamt of uniting the various rebels cells scattered across the galaxy. If you had, then perhaps you would be a greater threat.” Thrawn ignored Nightswan’s offended scoff. “As it stands, these small pockets of rebellion are easily dealt with by the Imperial Navy, and uniting them is a nigh insurmountable task, as you have also said. Tell me, what is your opinion of Gerrera?”

Nightswan pursed his lips, choosing his words carefully. Thrawn obviously had a point he was working towards, and Nightswan’s desire to argue the effectiveness of his own rebellion was battling against his desire to know what the hell Thrawn was talking about. 

“Gerrera is… overzealous,” Nightswan said slowly, studying Thrawn closely. “Too quick to fire before asking questions.” He swallowed hard. “He gets a lot of his people killed because of that.”

“Would you ever work with him?” Thrawn asked, and Nightswan shot him a contemptuous look.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

Thrawn nodded. “And therein lies my and Colonel Yularen’s reason for allowing Gerrera to continue to operate. The only other cells that may join him are of the same type, and his particular brand of rebellion is self-defeating. He may make waves here and there with showy, violent victories, but as you said, too many of his members do not live to see them. Either he will run out of mercenaries, or he himself will perish.”

“You don’t think he’s worth your time, even though he’s getting people killed,” Nightswan said darkly, bile rising in his throat. 

“Yes, and no,” Thrawn said, and to Nightswan’s surprise, a shadow of a scowl crossed Thrawn’s sharp features. “If Gerrera were not interested in the Empire’s project, and if it were my decision to make, I would eliminate him. Along with being a threat to the Empire, albeit a small one, his disregard for life is reprehensible.”

Nightswan nodded, suddenly feeling a bit off-kilter. It felt strange to agree with part of Thrawn’s statement— Gerrera was hurting more people than he was helping, and didn’t seem to care. 

Of course, Thrawn was hurting people too. But whereas Gerrera seemed primarily motivated by revenge thinly masked by a cry for freedom, Thrawn claimed some idealistic vision of future prosperity for the galaxy, one where the Emperor was no longer in charge. Nightswan vehemently disagreed with Thrawn’s methods, but… at least his heart seemed to be in the right place, for whatever that was worth. 

“This brings me to my next point,” Thrawn said, cutting into Nightswan’s thoughts. “I have called the Empire’s project a secret. This is partially true.” This time, Thrawn really did scowl, and Nightswan felt his heartbeat pick up. “The Emperor has told me what he is building. However, he did not fully divulge all his secrets, and I believe our shared fears still remain valid.” Thrawn’s eyes burned into Nightswan’s. “It is a mobile battle station of a size never before seen, called the _Death Star_.”

Nightswan’s blood ran cold. “A planet killer…” he muttered, lowering his gaze to the ruined comm on the table and cradling his chin in his hand. Nightswan had heard the rumors of such a monstrosity, but had dismissed them as wild extrapolation. It was an insane idea, and tactically foolish at that. He hadn’t thought those rumors were true.

“Do you remember when I asked you what you would do if we both faced a threat, one that could destroy us both?” Thrawn asked quietly, and Nightswan raised his eyes to meet that burning gaze. 

“I do,” he said somberly. “You said one option is for one of us to take down the other as a distraction, and attempt to escape.”

Thrawn nodded. “I have said before that I was sent to learn of the Empire, to ascertain its value against threats looming in the Unknown Regions,” he said, his voice as cold as the storm still raging outside their little pocket of warmth and shelter. “At the time of our last meeting, I had determined that if it remained strong, the Empire would be able to stand against these threats. With news of this battle station, I am no longer certain that is the case.”

Nightswan said nothing, waiting for Thrawn to continue, wondering what he was about to propose. 

“The Emperor knows I do not approve of this project, and has thus done his best to keep as much information from me as possible. He does not trust me,” Thrawn said, again scowling, jaw set in a firm line. “I am loyal to the Empire. But my true fight is not against rebels or disquiet or dissent. It is against evil, one the Empire refuses to acknowledge. And so, with the construction of this battle station, I again must evaluate my place in the Empire, and its place in the galaxy. I cannot do that without more information.”

Nightswan studied Thrawn carefully, not believing what he was hearing. “Are… are you saying that if you don’t like what the Empire is building, you’ll work _against_ it? Seek the Empire’s fall, as a distraction for these unknown evils?”

“If my fears are confirmed, I will not need to take any action against the Empire. I will return to my people, and we will reevaluate our options.” Thrawn sat straighter in his chair, glowing eyes boring into Nightswan’s. “If my fears are confirmed, the Empire will fall. Either to people like you, or to the threats beyond the Empire’s borders.”

Nightswan felt his jaw drop again, and he closed it with an effort. “You’re joking.”

“I am not.”

“The Empire is building a planet killer, and you’re telling me that’s going to bring about its demise?”

“It is a possibility. As I have said, I cannot be certain without more information. However, my current position does not allow me to follow up on Gerrera’s leads. That is why we need you.”

Nightswan shook his head, barely aware he was doing so. His mind was nearly spinning, trying to take in the information Thrawn had just dumped on him. And as his thoughts raced over the details, one discrepancy stood out to him. 

“Hold on,” Nightswan said, furrowing his brow. “You said you were tracking Gerrera with a program Yularen built. Is Yularen in on this?”

“Define ‘this’,” Thrawn asked. 

“I mean, you. You and why you’re here and why you want me to help and what might happen to the Empire. What exactly does Yularen know? I can’t imagine him condoning _any_ of this.”

To Nightswan’s surprise, Thrawn inclined his head, giving him a small smile. “Your assertion is correct. You currently are the only person, besides the Emperor, who knows that _I_ know the truth about the project. Colonel Yularen agreed to help me because he too has heard the rumors. But that is all he has— rumors. He wishes to know more. I realized that by not informing Yularen of my own knowledge, his desire for information would prove useful to me.”

“Why does Yularen care about what the Empire is building?” Nightswan asked contemptuously. As the director of the Imperial Security Bureau, it was Yularen’s business to make sure people didn’t do exactly the sort of backdoor digging Thrawn was currently engaged in. Nightswan hadn’t forgotten that it was ultimately Yularen’s work that had brought down Higher Skies, ending his neat little information thread to Coruscant. 

“Yularen was an admiral during the Clone Wars,” Thrawn said. “A very capable one at that, dedicated to the lives of those he served to protect. He is loyal to the Empire, but like me, is also loyal to a higher ideal. He took a position with the ISB, an organization designed to police the inner workings of the Empire, in order to maintain the standards of service that existed during the Republic. He is disturbed he has not been informed of the nature of this secret project, despite his close relationship with the Ruling Council.” Thrawn’s tone softened. “He seeks a just Empire, and fears this project may be anathema to that.”

Nightswan scoffed. “He’s doing a fantastic job of it,” he said sarcastically, and Thrawn cocked a brow. “Of building a just and fair Empire, I mean.” 

“He is one man,” Thrawn said with a shrug. “And the Empire is a vast machine.” Another scowl crossed Thrawn’s face, and he continued, a renewed darkness to his tone. “It was Yularen who personally investigated the disaster at Creekpath. He and I both agree that Governor Pryce was at fault for the massacre, but we have very little evidence to support that. She covered her tracks well, and has accrued too much political power for either of us to act against her without more proof of her involvement. Instead, I accepted her offer to station the Seventh Fleet at Lothal. Yularen and I both feel that my presence can mitigate further disasters by her hand.”

Nightswan felt his blood boil. “You _know_ who is responsible for all those deaths, and you didn’t do anything?” he hissed, sitting up and pounding a fist on the table. 

Thrawn didn’t react to Nightswan’s anger. “We have acted to the best of our ability. You have studied me. Do you really think I would allow such an action to go unanswered if I could?”

Nightswan continued to glower at Thrawn, but he felt himself deflate at bit at his words. Thrawn was right, of course. 

“How can you continue to serve an Empire that allows such situations to exist?” he muttered bitterly. 

“We have already discussed such,” Thrawn said shortly. “I find it pointless to discuss it again.”

Nightswan chewed his lip, trying to find an angle he hadn’t tried the last time they spoke about Thrawn’s loyalties. An appeal to life, to freedom, to stability… These were ideals that Thrawn already ascribed to, but saw a different path to achieving. Nightswan wanted the Empire to fall. Thrawn wanted it to stand. They both thought their way was the only correct choice. 

A thought struck Nightswan. “You say that if you don’t like what the Empire is building, you’ll leave? And the Empire will fall?”

“It is far more complicated than that, but in essence, yes,” Thrawn said. “My offer of you joining the Ascendancy still stands.”

Nightswan waved his hand dismissively. “We’ve already talked about that, and my answer is still no.” He leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “I want to help. I want to figure out exactly what the Empire is doing. And…” Nightswan swallowed hard again, thinking back to last night. How Thrawn had saved his life not once, but twice. How Thrawn had kept him safe, how Thrawn had held him, how gently Thrawn had kissed him. But he shoved those thoughts aside, and instead remembered the people hiding in caves as the Empire bombarded them with blaster bolts and turbolaser fire for daring to speak out against injustice. “And if me following up on Gerrera’s information, if what we learn confirms your fears… If that confirmation means you’ll finally be out of my hair, all the better for me.”

Thrawn smiled, and Nightswan caught a hint of sadness behind it. He wondered if Thrawn knew what he was leaving unsaid— that despite what had happened here, whatever last night was, it didn’t matter. This was war. And that was that.

“But as enticing as your offer is, we are in the same situation now as we were at Creekpath. I won’t leave these people to suffer.” Nightswan said after a moment, feeling a bit uncomfortable under Thrawn’s knowing gaze.

“I am aware.” Thrawn pushed back his chair and stood, crossing to his nearly-ruined parka hanging by the door. Nightswan watched as he rummaged around in an interior breast pocket for a moment before pulling out two datacards. 

“Normally, I would keep my comm in that particular pocket,” Thrawn said, sitting down again and laying the datacards on the table. Both were a civilian brand, one the same model as those Nightswan’s team used back at base. “But I had to ensure these remained safe, and all three items would not fit in the same pocket.” He gestured to the shattered comm on the table. “I didn’t think storing my comm in a different one would result in our current situation.”

“What are these?” Nightswan asked, hesitantly picking up the more familiar card.

“That datacard contains a record of the local governor’s embezzlement scheme,” Thrawn said, leaning back in his chair. “I knew you wouldn’t have agreed to help these people if their complaints were unfounded. I requested this assignment under the guise of recognizing your tactics, and expressed a desire to finally defeat my long-held nemesis.” A corner of Thrawn’s lips twitched in a smirk. “There is disagreement as to whether or not you actually died at Creekpath, and as a Grand Admiral, I am afforded more choice in my engagements. However, I have not sent word to High Command confirming your presence here, and the disagreement still stands.”

“How did you get this information?” Nightswan asked as he examined the datacard, ignoring Thrawn’s report on the Empire’s opinion of his supposed demise. “All the evidence we’ve managed to gather is hearsay. We haven’t been able to crack into the governor’s systems.”

“I unofficially sent word to Colonel Yularen explaining the situation, and my desire to enlist you in following Gerrera’s leads. Yularen agreed to look into the governor’s financial records, and found concrete proof of the people’s claims. He has since worked a fault into the governor's security systems, providing a plausible reason for the discovery.”

Nightswan glanced sharply at Thrawn. “You told Yularen I’m here?”

Thrawn nodded. “Both Yularen and I agree that the situation with the secret project outweighs your value as a rebel. Since your death is in dispute, Yularen agrees that you are our best option in following the leads provided by the tracking program. Additionally, a corrupt official will be exposed and the conflict here ended.”

“I don’t like this,” Nightswan said, frowning at Thrawn. “I mean, I like the part where there’s a proper resolution to all this, assuming the Empire takes this evidence seriously. But there’s a reason I’ve been lying low. Being dead has its benefits, and frankly, I don’t trust Yularen not to have someone else track me down the moment you’re gone.” 

Nightswan didn’t add that if only Thrawn had been involved, he would have far fewer reservations about the plan. That thought had been unexpected, and he didn’t like its implications.

“Understandable,” Thrawn said. “But consider— there is a reason the Ruling Council does not want Yularen to know about the project. There is a reason Yularen is looking into this unofficially, with a program he personally designed. Yularen’s role must remain secret. This datacard,” Thrawn nodded to the other card on the table. “Has the information provided by the tracking program. Information that, if it fell into the ISB’s hands, would be traced back to Yularen. And me, obviously.”

“I see,” Nightswan said, nodding slowly. “So this is also my insurance that you two won’t turn on me.” 

“Yes. I feel it is important to add that Colonel Yularen has also built some fail safes on his end that would ensure your capture, should you decide to turn that information over. I cannot go into the details, for obvious reasons.” Thrawn inclined his head almost apologetically.

Nightswan chuckled. “I figured. So we’re both pointing a loaded blaster at each other, and the triggers are tied together.” He tapped the datacard holding the damning evidence against the governor. “That just leaves the final sticking point— how do I know the Empire won’t ignore the evidence my people supposedly dug up?”

“When we return to our respective forces, we— that is, I and someone you appoint as your group’s leader— will negotiate a surrender. Your leader will present themselves and demand an audience with me, and give me the information. From there, my forces will take the governor into custody and return your leader to you. I do not know who will be appointed as this planet’s new governor,” Thrawn said gravely. “But this is a bloodless resolution, and Yularen and I will have some say in the choice since we are most familiar with the situation.”

“These people should be able to choose their own leader,” Nightswan spat.

“You know they cannot,” Thrawn said sympathetically. “I am sorry.”

Nightswan ground his teeth in frustration. He had hoped he could drive the Empire away from this planet for good, but considering all that had transpired in the battle for these people’s freedom, he knew that demand was too great for Thrawn to meet. And this offer probably _was_ the best option they had at this point. 

“It sounds like we have a deal,” Nightswan said heavily, setting down the datacard and leaning back in his chair. They had been sitting for quite a while, and he could feel his sore muscles protest as he stretched. “Anything else we need to discuss?”

Thrawn sat back in his own chair, eyeing Nightswan thoughtfully. His gaze seemed to linger, and Nightswan suddenly felt warm under his tunic. The way Thrawn was looking at him…

“Not immediately, no,” Thrawn said, turning to examine the comm again. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Nightswan said with a chuckle, glad the awkward moment had passed. “You know, we work well together, when we aren’t on opposite sides of the battlefield.”

Thrawn glanced up at him, arching a brow in amusement. “Does that surprise you?”

“Not really.” Nightswan shot a grin at the admiral, but felt it slide off his face a moment later. “It’s a shame we have to return to being enemies tomorrow. The reprieve has been nice. Not having to fight all the time.”

“I agree,” Thrawn said, voice heavy with sincerity. “Thankfully we may enjoy it a few hours more.”

Nightswan nodded absently, watching as Thrawn carefully picked apart his comm. Upon hearing Thrawn’s agreement, he felt something inside him shift, and he finally allowed himself to truly think about what had happened the night before. To remember all the details without fear. It had been _good_ , and not just because Thrawn’s body, however it worked, was amazing. It was the aftermath as well, how they had curled up together again, sleepily, lazily, gently; as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Nightswan realized he hadn’t wanted to admit that to himself, worried it would somehow cloud his judgement, make surviving this situation harder. 

Yet hearing that Thrawn too enjoyed not being enemies for once; enjoyed spending time not as Imperial Admiral and rebel leader, but as two equals working to solve a problem, that he was thankful for the time spent trapped in a small safe house together… 

Nightswan realized he hadn’t slept with his enemy. He had slept with someone who, in another life, he might have been proud to call a friend. 

“Actually, there is something else we need to talk about,” Nightswan said abruptly. “If you’re up for it.”

Thrawn looked up, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night. Or, this morning, I guess,” Nightswan said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “You know what I mean.”

“You are referring to the fact we had sex,” Thrawn said bluntly.

“Yeah,” Nightswan said, grimacing slightly. Now that he had brought it up, he had no idea how to continue. “That.”

Thrawn paused and Nightswan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I mean, if you don’t—”

“I must apologize,” Thrawn said, cutting him off. “That was not my intent in sharing the bed with you, and—”

“Don’t apologize,” Nightswan interrupted firmly. “First of all, I’m pretty sure you weren’t even aware of what was happening when you…” Nightswan gestured awkwardly. “Started. And second of all, it was great,” he finished sheepishly.

Thrawn stared at him, the faintest glimmer of surprise in his features. 

“I mean, we both could have stopped. But we didn’t,” Nightswan said with a shrug. “And I will admit that I’ve never had sex like that before. It was… interesting. To say the least,” he said, shooting Thrawn a grin. 

To his relief, Thrawn returned a wry smile of his own. “I could say the same,” he said, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. “Your biology is… odd. But intriguing.”

Nightswan laughed. This was a conversation he had _never_ imagined having. “It seems a lot less complicated than yours, to be honest. I couldn’t see what was going on down there, but I know that much.”

Thrawn’s smiled deepened, and Nightswan felt a shiver run down his spine as the atmosphere shifted. “I would be more than happy to explain it in further detail, if you’d like,” Thrawn said, eyes gleaming with something almost… heated. “After all, we have the time, and little else to do.”

Nightswan stared at him, brain frozen despite the heat rising in his cheeks. Was Thrawn suggesting…?

“Absolutely,” Nightswan said abruptly, not giving himself time to think. 

He and Thrawn weren’t enemies here, not right now— and he was going to savor every moment of that. 


	5. (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahoy! Enjoy ;)

They looked at one another across the table for a moment and Nightswan almost thought he could see a faint purple blush in Thrawn’s cheeks, mirroring the one currently heating his own face. 

Thrawn cleared his throat into the silence. “I should perhaps complete my repair first,” he said, gesturing at the bits of his broken comm still strewn over the table between them. 

“Right, of course,” Nightswan said brusquely, trying to cover how flustered he was. “I’m just gonna… Take your time.” 

Thrawn nodded, bending his head over his work again. Nightswan let the legs of his chair drop back down to the floor with a thump and made his way back to the cot. He pulled up the holo-novel on his datapad again, but if he’d had trouble concentrating on reading before, it was a hundred times worse now. He kept at it anyway, doggedly; pointedly not looking over at the table where Thrawn was absorbed in his tinkering. He eventually took a ‘fresher break, mainly in the interests of ensuring he really had cleaned himself up properly, if they were going to be doing… well, whatever it was they wound up doing. 

Flopping back down on the bed, Nightswan stared unseeing at the words on his screen while his mind wandered back to what they _had_ done, this morning. To the things they _might_ do before long. He’d been with non-humans before, but never with someone endowed with anything remotely like whatever Thrawn had going on down there. Not only had it felt incredibly good, he was nearly dying of curiosity after not having had the chance to actually _see_ what Thrawn looked like. 

Nightswan was pulled from his reverie by the hiss of the refresher door opening and Thrawn coming back into the main room. Glancing over at the table as he hastily, surreptitiously adjusted the hard-on he hadn’t quite noticed getting, he saw to his slight surprise that the admiral had already hooked up his partially repaired comm to the transmitter. 

“All done?” Nightswan asked, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He must have gotten lost in thought for longer than he realized. He hadn’t even noticed Thrawn head _in_ to the refresher. 

“Indeed. I will attempt to contact the _Chimaera_ once the storm has begun to weaken,” Thrawn said as he crossed the room. “My comm alone, even undamaged, would not be powerful enough at the moment, and I do not wish to invite difficult questions.” 

Thrawn sat down next to him on the bed, twisting to look at him, and a little zing of excitement ran through Nightswan as the admiral’s knee bumped his. “Good thinking,” he managed. 

“I am glad it meets with your approval,” Thrawn said dryly, but he had a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth that looked almost… teasing. 

Nightswan swallowed, licking suddenly dry lips. “So…” He trailed off, and Thrawn’s smile deepened. 

“So,” Thrawn echoed, almost as though he was tasting the word as he said it. “I believe we agreed on satisfying our mutual curiosity?” 

Nightswan grinned. “I believe we did, yes.” 

His heart thudding in his chest, he leaned in, feeling that dizzying adrenaline rush of mingled nerves and anticipation spread out from his groin in a wash of heat, that surreal feeling of teetering on an unseen precipice— 

Thrawn’s mouth met his and Nightswan’s eyes fluttered shut, his head spinning with desire. The kiss was nothing more than a tentative press of warm, soft lips to start; but that changed quickly as he felt Thrawn’s warm hand move to squeeze his thigh, heard Thrawn’s faint moan— almost more of a sigh, really. 

Nightswan kissed him a little harder in response, flicking the tip of his tongue lightly over Thrawn’s lips. They parted for him almost instantly, Thrawn’s tongue meeting his, hot and wet and inviting, twining and teasing as they explored each other all over again. Nightswan had been so sleepy earlier that the memory of everything they’d done had an oddly dreamlike quality in his mind, but _this—_ this was definitely, vividly, wonderfully _real._

He twisted, running his hand up Thrawn’s leg to his waist and around to his back. Thrawn surged closer, pressing up against him, pushing him gently backwards without breaking the kiss, until Nightswan was lying on his back with Thrawn’s hips between his open legs and Thrawn’s tongue still moving hot and slick in his open mouth. 

Nightswan’s cock was fully hard now, straining inside his pants, and a quiet, unquenchable moan welled up in the back of his throat. He ran both hands down the muscled expanse of Thrawn’s back, tugging the admiral’s hips lower to grind up against him, needing friction, pressure, _anything._ Thrawn let out a soft gasp against Nightswan’s lips and finally broke the kiss. 

“We should undress if you intend to do any more of _that,_ ” Thrawn murmured. He nipped lightly at Nightswan’s bottom lip before straightening up, sitting back on his heels and running both hands along Nightswan’s inner thighs. 

The gentle pressure, the weight of Thrawn’s warm hands gradually pushing his legs open wider was incredibly distracting, and it took a moment for Nightswan’s brain to catch up through the haze of desire. 

“What— _oh._ Right,” he said, blushing as he finally clued in and still trying to catch his breath. His memories might be a little fuzzy around the edges, but he _definitely_ remembered how slick the touch of Thrawn’s tentacles had been from the start. However the Chiss worked, exactly, it evidently involved some sort of natural lubricant. And since neither of them had anything but the clothes they were wearing already… 

“That’s possibly your best idea yet,” he added, grinning as he watched Thrawn pull his black undershirt off over his head, muscles flexing and rippling under the blue skin as he moved. 

Nightswan pointedly ran his gaze down Thrawn’s bare torso and back up again while undoing his own pants, unashamedly enjoying the view. Thrawn _did_ blush at that, those deliciously sharp cheekbones getting a slight but unmistakable purple tinge to them, and Nightswan couldn’t help grinning wider. 

He sat up as Thrawn shifted out from between his legs, both of them wriggling out of their clothes as quickly as possible. Nightswan stood to kick off his boots and pants, dropping his tunic onto them in a messy heap as he turned back to face Thrawn— then paused in his tracks at the sight that greeted him. 

Thrawn was already naked, lying half on his side with one knee casually bent up against the wall, an undisguised expression of curious interest on his face as his glowing eyes roamed over Nightswan’s body. 

Nightswan returned the look, his gaze raking down Thrawn’s form, too curious himself to even feel shy under the scrutiny. Thrawn’s blue-black hair was, Nightswan noticed with an odd little thrill of pride, already somewhat disheveled; and the admiral really was incredibly fit, his well-defined muscles obviously toned through use rather than merely overdeveloped for show or vanity. 

The vivid blue of his skin deepened noticeably towards his groin, and between his legs… no tentacles. No external genitalia at _all,_ in fact. There was a definite bulge there, though, under dark, navy blue skin; and what seemed to be a sort of… three-pointed slit. 

Nightswan eventually managed to tear his eyes away as he slowly sank back down onto the bed to lie on his side facing Thrawn. Thrawn seemed to be having the same trouble, finally dragging his gaze back up to Nightswan’s face as Nightswan settled in. He was all but certain Thrawn had been staring intently at his cock, still completely, eagerly erect; and a thought occurred to him as he recalled Thrawn’s words from their discussion at the table. _I could say the same…_

“Wait, so— have you never actually slept with a human before?” 

“Not until now,” Thrawn answered, trailing his fingers lightly up Nightswan’s bare arm. 

“Really?” he asked curiously. “But I mean… you’ve been in the Empire for _years._ Surely there’s been _someone_ you were interested in, in all that time.” 

“There was. However…” Thrawn’s hand stilled and he went silent for a long moment, his expression becoming closed off and his eyes growing distant, unfocused. Berating himself silently for being so insensitive, even if it had been unintentional, Nightswan was just opening his mouth to apologize when the Chiss finally spoke again. “It would have been both inappropriate and inadvisable to make my feelings known, given our respective ranks and the Empire’s view of non-humans in general, and interspecies relations in particular.” 

“I’m sorry,” Nightswan said, wincing internally. “I should have thought…” 

“It was an understandable assumption.” Thrawn’s shoulder lifted in a minute, lopsided shrug. “In any case, the situation is no longer relevant.” 

“I’m sorry,” Nightswan said again, guilt twisting lightly through his stomach. 

Guilt, and the sudden worry that he’d gone and screwed this whole thing up by dredging up painful memories— but Thrawn’s eyes refocused, finding his again. A smile tugged at Thrawn’s lips and his guarded expression dropped away again as his fingers resumed tracing idle patterns over Nightswan’s arm and shoulder. 

“Apology accepted.” 

Nightswan shivered, feeling a trail of goosebumps rise behind Thrawn’s fingers. He’d mostly lost his erection while they talked; but it started coming back almost immediately, his cock re-filling rapidly at Thrawn’s touch and at the look in his eyes. 

“Let me make it up to you?” Nightswan ventured, returning the smile and running his own hand slowly down Thrawn’s front. 

Thrawn hummed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips before answering. “If you like,” he said, that teasing smirk back in place. 

“Oh, I would,” Nightswan answered, his own smile widening into a grin. “I definitely would. But you might have to, uh… walk me through some of it. So to speak.” 

He slid his hand lower as he spoke, finding that pelvic mound and ghosting his fingertips lightly over Thrawn’s slit. Thrawn’s eyes drifted briefly shut, and Nightswan was certain he felt something _move_ under fingers; under Thrawn’s skin. 

“I believe I can manage that,” Thrawn said, the faintest hint of a tremor in his voice as Nightswan repeated the motion, pressing just a little harder this time. 

“Good,” he murmured, covering Thrawn’s mouth with his once more before shifting a little, propping himself up on one elbow and re-settling himself with a better angle to see what he was doing. With Thrawn’s knee up and the room brightly lit, he had a perfect view this time. Of _everything._

Cupping Thrawn with his hand, Nightswan gently pressed down with the heel of his palm, rubbing it carefully back and forth over Thrawn’s slit. He could already feel his hand getting sticky with Thrawn’s… lubricant? Precome? 

“How’s this?” he asked, massaging a little harder and glancing back up at Thrawn’s face. “Is that good?” 

Thrawn was looking down too, his lips parted and his glowing eyes half-lidded as he watched Nightswan touching him. That alone was enough to send a fresh wave of arousal washing out from Nightswan’s core, his cock twitching against Thrawn’s leg. 

“Yes… Continue,” Thrawn said with a quiet grunt as Nightswan pressed down and over his slit again. “Please.” 

Pleased with himself, Nightswan looked down again and kept going, watching in rapt fascination as the mound under his hand… _swelled,_ more precome welling up out of Thrawn’s three-pointed slit. Those slits were rapidly, visibly spreading open as the bulge under them grew, and Nightswan ran his fingertips along the inside edge of one, making Thrawn quiver against him. Something curved, dark and glistening— it had to be one of Thrawn’s tentacles— was starting to rise up through the spreading slits. 

“Do you want me to… go inside?” 

“Not yet,” Thrawn answered. The implication that he did— maybe— want that at some later point sent an immediate thrill tingling up Nightswan’s spine. “My _es’cah_ must fully evert before I can be penetrated.” 

Thrawn’s voice already had a breathy quality to it, though his actual breathing still seemed fairly steady. Nightswan ran a thumb over Thrawn’s tentacle— _es’cah,_ he reminded himself, trying out the word in his mind, and grinning at the soft moan he pulled from Thrawn’s lips. 

“How does that work with women, anyway?” he asked curiously, still rubbing Thrawn gently, unsure how much pressure was the right amount. That clear natural lubricant had a faint bluish tinge to it, and seemed to be coming from low, longitudinal ridges running up the emerging _es’cah._ Nightswan played his fingers over the ridges and Thrawn let out a soft, humming moan. “What do they have?” 

“All Chiss have the same… genitals, I believe would be the— _ahh…_ the closest term in Basic,” Thrawn answered, sounding distinctly distracted. 

“What? But…” Nightswan trailed off, frowning slightly. It hadn’t even occurred to him until now, to wonder how actual reproduction worked for Chiss, but if he was understanding Thrawn right… A sudden, horrifying thought crystallized in Nightswan’s mind, and he looked up at Thrawn. “Are you— you are male, right? I mean… this morning, when I—” 

“Ah.” Thrawn’s brief expression of confusion cleared again, and he actually chuckled. “Yes, I see. You need not be concerned about… fertilization. Even were I a _ver’g’ezi,_ our species are not genetically compatible.” 

“A verg— what?” Nightswan asked, completely at a loss now, though his brief spike of worry was fading again. 

Thrawn groaned quietly, slipping one hand down to cover Nightswan’s and press it harder against his still partially-exposed _es’cah._ Finally realizing he’d stopped without noticing, Nightswan resumed his work, looking down to watch again as he did. 

“A _ver’g’ezi,_ ” Thrawn said again. He took his hand back with a breathy noise that sounded _distinctly_ like a sigh of relief. “Chiss have four sexes. The production of eggs or sperm is not limited to what you call males or females.” 

“So a vergezzy is…” Nightswan trailed off, staring in rapt fascination as the tentacle he’d been stroking… _unfurled_ from inside Thrawn, the tip immediately twining loosely around his thumb. Under it was another, identical to the first but only just starting to push up out of Thrawn’s slit. 

“An egg-male,” Thrawn said. “And your pronunciation is— _mmh…_ awful.” 

“Sorry,” Nightswan said absentmindedly. He’d shifted his hand a little, palming the second tentacle as it swelled, and the first one kept repeatedly coiling around his fingers and then releasing him again. The movement looked almost exploratory; and was very much like what he’d felt on his cock that morning, he realized. “Why is it doing that?” 

Thrawn’s voice was definitely getting strained, his breathing growing increasingly unsteady. “With another Chiss, each _es’cah_ would… pair with one of my partner’s. It is a reflex, essentially.” 

Thrawn groaned again as the second tentacle— _es’cah—_ unfurled to twine through Nightswan’s fingers, twisting and uncoiling rhythmically along with the first one. They looked nearly identical, an almost indigo-dark blue, each one a little narrower at the base than Nightswan’s own erection and tapering elegantly down to about a finger’s-width at the tips. It was a bit hard to tell with the way they were constantly in that sort of twisting spiral movement, never fully straightening out; but they certainly seemed to be a fair bit longer than a typical human cock. 

They both had those ridges running down their entire length, too, all of them slowly leaking slick precome. If Nightswan wasn’t very much mistaken, that gush of come he’d felt the first time almost certainly came from the same place. No wonder it had gone _everywhere._

“So you can’t control them?” Nightswan asked, biting his lower lip. His own breathing was starting to come a little fast, his cock throbbing lightly in time with his pulse. He couldn’t quite hold back from rocking his hips a little, grinding his stiff length against Thrawn’s leg. “But you made them stop this morning, when you woke up.” 

“Yes. It is not— ahh— _es’cah_ are not… prehensile?” Nightswan nodded, and Thrawn continued, his words punctuated by occasional soft gasps and panting breaths. “I can control… whether they move or not, but— not the manner in which they move. It—” 

Thrawn cut off with a _hiss,_ a tremor running through him as his third _es’cah_ everted under Nightswan’s palm to join the first two, warm and slick as they pulsed through his fingers and twined around his hand. They were definitely firm to the touch; but not _hard,_ not the way Nightswan’s own cock was, still pushed firmly up against Thrawn’s bare thigh. 

Nightswan’s breath caught as the tentacles parted for a moment, giving him a brief glimpse of what had to be Thrawn’s… entrance, a dark gap in the center of the three; and he finally understood what Thrawn had meant. The _es’cah_ had to actually come out before anything else could get in there. 

Sliding his hand forward, Nightswan ran his fingers slowly down one tentacle towards the base, and Thrawn groaned, panting softly. Nightswan looked up at him, leaning in to press a brief kiss to his lips. 

“Do you want me to keep going?” he asked, playing the tips of his fingers over what he was fairly certain was the rim of Thrawn’s hole while the coiled tentacles slid up his wrist, squeezing and trying to tug him deeper. 

“ _Yes,_ ” came the immediate, unhesitating answer.

Needing no further invitation, Nightswan twisted his arm a little and slid two fingers inside Thrawn. The admiral moaned, his _es’cah_ tightening and coiling a little further up Nightswan’s arm, and Nightswan pulled his fingers out and promptly pushed them back in again. 

He didn’t quite expect the sudden gasp, or the way Thrawn jerked and shuddered against him; and he stopped, concerned he’d done something wrong. “Should I not do that?” he asked, searching Thrawn’s face for any sign of pain or discomfort. 

“No, it is… good,” Thrawn panted. “Merely… unexpected. I had forgotten… you did it this morning as well.” 

There was a hint of a question in his tone, Nightswan realized. 

“What, this?” he asked as he started fingering Thrawn again, a little more gently this time, rutting his stiff cock up against Thrawn’s leg in slow, lazy thrusts that matched the rhythm of his fingers. Thrawn moaned shakily, nodding. “Do Chiss not do that?” 

“No. Not— not to nearly the same extent.” 

“Mm… interesting,” Nightswan murmured. “But you like it, when I fuck you like this?” he asked, thrusting a little harder, with his fingers and his hips both. 

“ _Yes,_ ” Thrawn hissed; the word cutting off abruptly in a sharp gasp as Nightswan added a third finger and kept going. 

Thrawn’s hips were moving now; not thrusting, exactly, Nightswan realized, but _rocking._ Just as they had been when they’d fucked this morning. Resting his head down on the pillow and shifting back a little to keep his view, Nightswan slipped his other hand down as well to run his fingers over the tentacles that were wrapped around his hand and wrist. 

It was more than a little awkward, and he had to stop grinding himself against Thrawn to do it, unfortunately— but it was worth it for the reaction he got. 

Thrawn whimpered, his fists clenching in the sheets as his back lifted briefly off the bed. The tips of his _es’cah_ left Nightswan’s wrist, twining together and nudging into his hand instead. 

Closing his fingers around the _es’cah_ that were sliding eagerly into his grip, Nightswan followed the pulsing rhythm of the tentacles, still fingerfucking Thrawn with one hand and now stroking him with the other as well. The tugging motion was slowly easing him in further with every pulse, until Nightswan found himself four fingers deep into Thrawn’s tight heat, with no sign yet that it was too much. 

Thrawn was moaning incoherently beside him now, the sound _urgent;_ and Nightswan kept going, looking up just long enough to take in Thrawn’s expression. He wasn’t watching any longer, his head tilted back and his glowing eyes shut; mouth slack with pleasure and chest heaving as he panted for breath. He was still half on his side with his legs open wide, his hips angled towards Nightswan as they rocked back and forth in sharp, almost desperate motions. 

His _es’cah_ were pulsing even faster now and Nightswan sped up along with them, his own breath coming fast and shallow and his cock aching for touch between his legs. He couldn’t really thrust properly with his fingers anymore— they were buried so deeply inside Thrawn that he could feel the squeeze of Thrawn’s hole right up to his knuckles— so he kept his whole arm moving instead, rythmically pressing and relaxing, ignoring the burning of his muscles and reveling in the slick pressure of Thrawn’s tentacles sliding back and forth over his skin. 

“That’s it… come on, _come_ for me,” Nightswan breathed, his gaze fixed down once more. There was absolutely no way he was going to miss this a second time. “Let me _see_ you.” 

He tightened his grip, jerking Thrawn off a little harder and pressing slowly forward with the other arm, feeling Thrawn opening up even further on him until his hand slipped partly inside that tight, slick heat. 

Thrawn bit out a curse that Nightswan didn’t understand, his ragged breathing stuttered as he went briefly rigid— and then a heartbeat later, with an explosive, moaning gasp, he came. 

Nightswan groaned, panting, as he watched Thrawn’s come gush from all three tentacles at once, the liquid heat coating his already-slick hands, his arm; some of it spilling onto Thrawn’s belly and down his hip. He realized, distantly, that they probably should have thought to put something down to protect the bed; but could not bring himself to care in the slightest as he watched Thrawn gasping and shaking beside him, felt Thrawn clenching on him while the indigo tentacles twitched and spasmed around his wrist and in the tight grip of his fingers. 

Remembering how Thrawn had continued on for a time after coming before, Nightswan kept moving his hands, squeezing and stroking Thrawn through the rest of his orgasm. And sure enough, as they had the first time, the _es’cah_ continued slowly moving, gently tugging and pulsing as they kept leaking hot, sticky come over his skin. 

Thrawn was still trembling as the aftershocks shuddered through him; trembling and whimpering softly on every exhale. Nightswan nuzzled into his neck, pressing kisses up the edge of his jaw, and Thrawn shifted, turning to meet Nightswan’s lips in a sloppy, needy, breathless kiss. 

The tentacles eventually began to retreat from his grip— they seemed to be subsiding and deflating much like a human’s erection after orgasm, Nightswan noted distantly— and he took one hand back and rolled closer to press his aching cock up against Thrawn again, his groan of relief muffled into Thrawn’s mouth. 

Thrawn smiled against his lips, still breathing hard. “Will you show me how to return the favour?” 

“I believe I can manage that,” Nightswan said with a grin, purposely echoing Thrawn’s earlier words. 

Thrawn’s soft laugh turned into a shaky moan as Nightswan carefully pulled his fingers out and extricated his hand from the tentacles’ relaxed hold. Flopping onto his back, he rolled his shoulder, briefly stretching out his arm a little before running his other hand over his own stiff cock with another groan, his hips bucking up into his own touch. 

His hand and fingers were coated with Thrawn’s come, wonderfully slippery as he reached lower to cup his own balls for a moment before sliding his hand back up along the underside of his shaft. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and starting stroking himself slowly, occasionally pausing to circle his thumb or the palm of his hand over his swollen cockhead with a breathy grunt of pleasure. He wasn’t normally one for… giving a show like this; but knowing Thrawn was learning from it as well as enjoying it— he hoped, anyway— made it different, somehow. 

Beside him, Thrawn was watching quietly with his head propped up on one hand, running the fingers of the other over Nightswan’s chest and stomach. Before long, though, he slid that hand lower, fingertips trailing lightly through the curled hair at the base of Nightswan’s cock and then down to his balls. 

“Hm… interesting,” Thrawn commented after a moment. 

Nightswan huffed a laugh that turned into something approaching a moan as Thrawn’s fingers continued their explorations, sliding over his balls, thumb rubbing gently over the base of his cock. “What’s interesting?” 

Thrawn shrugged, his hand moving up, thumb and forefinger encircling Nightswan’s shaft and giving it a light, obviously experimental squeeze. “I had only seen medical texts and images until now. I did not expect an erection to feel quite so… _hard._ Under the skin.” 

“Well, you— _ahh—_ ” Nightswan broke off with a groan, letting go of himself as Thrawn’s closed hand slid up his cock. “You _have_ gotten me pretty damn worked up, you know,” he managed to continue with another breathless laugh. 

“I assure you, that was not a complaint,” Thrawn said, his voice low and throaty. He leaned over, meeting Nightswan’s lips in a deep, slow kiss as he started working his hand up and down Nightswan’s slicked cock. 

Nightswan let his legs fall open wider, his quiet moan of need muffled into Thrawn’s mouth and his hips thrusting up into Thrawn’s grip almost of their own volition. Thrawn was obviously mimicking what he’d been watching Nightswan do to himself, and he was doing a pretty damn good job of it too, considering. 

He was stroking fairly slowly, and Nightswan almost told him he could speed up— but decided he didn’t want to risk this being over too soon. It just felt too fucking _good;_ the slow pace a delicious torture, Thrawn’s grip nicely firm but just shy of tight _enough._

Thrawn eventually pulled back from the kiss, leaving Nightswan trying— and failing— to catch his breath again; a softly whimpered gasp slipping from his lips when Thrawn paused and swirled his thumb over the head of Nightswan’s cock, rubbing gently back and forth along his slit. 

“Do human men truly produce no lubrication?” 

“Not really, no," Nightswan said, a little breathless. He was starting to get an idea of just what he had been putting Thrawn through, trying to answer questions through his growing state of distraction. "There’s precome, I guess but… nowhere near what you have. Ahh— _fuck—_ ” Nightswan’s hips bucked again as Thrawn’s hand closed over his cockhead, tight fist running down the entire length of his shaft. “Stars, that’s good… do that again.” 

Thrawn did, his pleased hum not entirely drowned out by Nightswan’s shivering groan. “I presume synthetic lubricant is employed, then,” Thrawn said, blessedly not letting up from those slow, firm strokes of his hand. 

“Yeah, sometimes… Spit usually works just fine— _mmh—_ for a lot of things. Not anal, of course, but— _fuck…_ for handjobs, blowjobs, whatever.” 

Nightswan knew he was starting to babble a little, but it was getting increasingly difficult to keep track of his thoughts. Thrawn had no right to be so good at this the first time he’d ever done it, really. 

… Not that Nightswan was complaining. 

“What is a ‘blowjob’?” Thrawn was asking curiously, and a sudden image flashed into Nightswan’s mind, of his cock in Thrawn’s mouth, his hand fisted in that glossy black hair— 

“It’s slang for oral sex,” he explained, flushing. “Very inaccurate slang, really. It’s more about… um. Sucking.” 

“I see,” Thrawn said, his tone musing. 

He fell silent, hand still working steadily up and down Nightswan’s throbbing cock, and Nightswan was just starting to think Thrawn was going to get him off like this, slow pace or not, when the admiral finally spoke again. “Would you like me to do that?” 

“Do what?” Nightswan asked. 

“‘Suck’ you. I would like to try it.” 

Nightswan stared, tongue-tied; not quite believing he’d heard right. 

“Oral sex _does_ refer to using one’s mouth to pleasure a sexual partner, yes?” Thrawn asked, quirking one eyebrow as he met Nightswan’s eyes with that little knowing, teasing _smirk_ on his lips again. 

Nightswan nodded, lightheaded. He hadn’t really _hoped,_ even, but… If Thrawn _wanted_ to… 

“Yes,” he managed. “It does.” 

“Mm… well, then,” Thrawn murmured, nipping gently at Nightswan’s bottom lip. “Would you like me to do that?” he repeated, and there was an unmistakable, unexpected, _playful_ undercurrent in his tone. 

Nightswan groaned as Thrawn’s hand stopped stroking and gave his shaft a squeeze. “ _Yes._ Yes, I would like that. _Very_ much.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (oops, how did that Thranto pining get in there?)


	6. (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the smut continues...

“Just, uh… I should probably warn you, a lot of people find human come doesn’t have the most pleasant taste or texture,” Nightswan said, flushing a little. “It can take some getting used to.” 

“I will keep that in mind.” Thrawn let go of Nightswan’s cock and rolled onto all fours above him, straddling one of his thighs and leaning down to cover his mouth in another kiss. Nightswan groaned, running both hands up Thrawn’s bare back, pulling him close while Thrawn’s tongue twined hot and slick with his own. 

Thrawn broke the kiss before long, trailing a series of kisses and licks along Nightswan’s jaw, his tongue rasping over the stubble and sending shivers down Nightswan’s spine. Sucking in a shaky breath, he tilted his head as Thrawn continued down his neck, into the hollow of his throat and over his collarbone. Thrawn was shifting down the bed in tiny increments at the same time, slipping lower between Nightswan’s open legs. 

He paused partway down Nightswan’s chest, and Nightswan looked down just as Thrawn’s tongue flicked over his nipple. A soft gasp slipped from his lips and he arched his back briefly off the bed, pressing himself up to Thrawn’s warm mouth. 

“Humans enjoy this too, then?” Thrawn murmured, giving Nightswan’s stiffened nipple another lick and then taking it between his lips and suckling lightly. 

Nightswan quivered, groaning. “Maybe not _all_ humans, but… I definitely do.” 

“Mmm,” Thrawn hummed, flicking at the other with his thumb and sending another spike of sensation through Nightswan’s core, making his hips twitch up and his cock jump where it lay on his belly. 

Thrawn pulled his mouth off Nightswan’s nipple again with a soft, wet _pop_ and continued his slow, meandering path downwards, pressing kisses to Nightswan’s skin as he went. Nightswan couldn’t help noticing Thrawn’s fingers kept running through the dark hair on his chest and stomach, too. He hadn’t really been paying attention earlier, too distracted by the more _striking_ anatomical differences between them, but now that he thought about it, Thrawn didn’t seem to have any body hair save for a small patch in each underarm, the same blue-black as the hair on his head. 

“Do Chiss… not have body hair? Or do you just shave everything?” Nightswan couldn’t help asking. He blushed when Thrawn paused, looking up at him from the vicinity of his navel with one eyebrow raised. 

“‘Shaving everything’ sounds like an exceedingly pointless waste of time to me,” Thrawn answered, a half-suppressed but distinctly amused smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

Nightswan shrugged sheepishly. “Hey, you never know. Some people do.” 

“Then no, your first guess was correct. Chiss have very little body hair,” Thrawn said, shifting a little to lounge sideways over Nightswan’s thigh and dropping his gaze to his own fingers, drawing nonsensical swirls through the hair on Nightswan’s stomach. “Are you representative of humans in this?” he asked after a moment. 

“No, I’m, uh… definitely above average.” 

“Ah,” Thrawn said; then levered himself up to resettle between Nightswan’s thighs. “I find it highly appealing.” 

“Really?” Nightswan asked, blushing again. He twitched as Thrawn leaned down to mouth at his hip, sending a fresh twinge of arousal straight to his cock. 

“Mmm,” was all the answer he got, and any other thoughts Nightswan had on the matter were scattered completely as Thrawn’s lips ghosted lower, following the line of his hip inwards and down until his cheek brushed the head of Nightswan’s cock. Nightswan stared down, transfixed, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of Thrawn’s mouth beside his stiff, flushed cock, moving down along the crease at the very top of his inner thigh towards— 

Nightswan whimpered in dismay when Thrawn’s warm mouth left him, the admiral sitting up and pulling away with a frown. For one heart-stopping moment, he thought he’d done something wrong— until he realized Thrawn was trying to find a way to fit comfortably at the foot of the cot. 

Before he could move up to try and make more room, Thrawn slipped off the bed to kneel on the floor instead, tugging Nightswan’s hips over and pushing his legs open wide. Nightswan raised himself up onto his elbows, shifting to lie diagonally on the mattress with one foot down on the floor and the other up on the bed. 

“Are you going to be comfortable like tha- _aahh—_ ” His question turned into a broken moan instead as Thrawn’s tongue ran hot and wet along the skin of his inner thigh. 

“Yes,” came the muffled response, and Nightswan groaned, unable to tear his gaze away. Thrawn’s hands were warm on his legs, breath hot as he licked a long, slow stripe up Nightswan’s thigh; then another, moving inwards until— 

Nightswan trembled, whimpering quietly as that tongue flickered over his balls. The touch was light, almost tentative, and he didn’t try to hold back his own reactions as Thrawn continued licking at him. He kept watching from under heavy lidded-eyes, vaguely aware of his own chest heaving as Thrawn explored him thoroughly, _curiously._ He was clearly becoming more confident as he went, his tongue wandering up to the base of Nightswan’s cock and back down, over his balls again; and then lower still, over the sensitive skin just below them and down to his ass. 

“Oh, _hells,_ Thrawn,” Nightswan groaned, finally dropping down onto his back again, his eyes fluttering shut and nearly rolling back in his head as Thrawn’s tongue played lightly over his hole a few times before dragging back up over his perineum again. “Do you have _any_ idea what you’re doing to me right now?” he asked, entirely breathless already, gripping a fistful of bedsheet in each hand so he wouldn’t give in and start jerking himself off again. He felt twitchy all over, simultaneously over- _and_ under-stimulated; and he knew if he touched himself now, he wouldn’t be able to stop until he’d finished. 

He felt Thrawn’s smile against his skin. “Perhaps.” 

Nightswan groaned again, his breath catching in nearly a sob as the very tip of Thrawn’s tongue began trailing lightly, slowly, up the underside of his shaft. Every time it twitched up off his stomach, Thrawn paused, pulling back slightly until it subsided back down again. Nightswan was nearly writhing on the bed from the delicious torment before Thrawn even made it up to the head of his cock. 

“ _Thrawn—_ fuck, please,” he moaned. “Don’t _tease_ me anymore, I can’t…” Thrawn’s tongue swirled over his swollen cockhead and Nightswan jerked on the mattress, gasping. “ _Gods—_ ” 

He thought he heard a low chuckle as Thrawn’s fingers curled around his shaft, lifting it off his belly, and then his mind went briefly blank as the soft wet heat of Thrawn’s mouth closed around his throbbing cock and sucked him in. 

Nightswan shuddered, a loud, broken moan escaping him as Thrawn’s lips and tongue slid down the length of his cock. Thrawn took him deep from the first, mouth sinking right down to where his fingers were wrapped tightly around the base; and then he continued, without pause or hesitation, blue-black hair falling into his face as his head bobbed up and down between Nightswan’s legs. 

Without thinking, Nightswan reached down and twined his fingers lightly through Thrawn’s hair, pushing it back off his forehead. Thrawn paused, looking up without pulling off; and Nightswan very nearly came then and there at the sight of his cock half-buried between dark, wet lips with those brilliant red eyes gazing up at him. 

He was about to apologize and snatch his hand back, the worry that he’d overstepped a boundary belatedly piercing through the haze of bliss clouding his mind, when Thrawn went back to sucking his cock with a distinctly pleased hum. The vibrations sent sparks of pleasure tingling up Nightswan’s spine, and his fingers tightened briefly in Thrawn’s hair, his hips twitching up as Thrawn’s mouth sank down over his cock once more. 

Thrawn was still going slowly, and Nightswan felt him shift slightly without stopping, saw him reaching his free hand down his own body— and then he brought it back up again, fingers running over Nightswan’s hole— they were _slick,_ slick with what could only be Thrawn’s come— 

“ _Ahh—_ ” Nightswan jerked, gasping, as Thrawn pushed two slightly cool, wet fingers inside him, and Thrawn stopped and pulled up off his cock, looking up at him with concern. 

“Is this not pleasant? After this morning, I thought—” 

“ _Yes,_ yes it is _very_ pleasant,” Nightswan choked out. “Don’t stop, please, gods, don’t _stop—_ oh- oh _fuck—_ ” 

Thrawn had closed his mouth over Nightswan’s cock again and was sucking him faster now, fingers pressing in a little deeper and staying there. The mild burn of the stretch disappeared quickly, washed away by the pleasure that mounted rapidly until Nightswan was gasping for air, a steady stream of whimpers and moans falling from his lips. 

He couldn’t look away, didn’t want to miss a _second_ of this as his cock slid in and out between Thrawn’s lips— his tension was rapidly coiling higher as Thrawn’s fingers curled inside him; curling and releasing again and again— and then they brushed lightly over his sweet spot and Nightswan’s back arched up off the bed at the explosion of heat that roared through him. 

“Yes, _yes,_ right there, Thrawn— _yes—_ I’m gonna… I’m gonna come, I— please— _fuck—_ ” 

The last tore from his throat in a strangled wail and his cock _throbbed_ as he began to come, pulsing out into the heat of Thrawn’s mouth, release crashing through him so hard he saw stars. 

Thrawn’s eyes widened and he jerked back in surprise, pulling just off Nightswan’s cock. He twitched again as more come spurted up across his bottom lip and into his open mouth; but he didn’t stop, glowing eyes fixed down on his own hand pumping Nightswan’s shaft while the fingers of the other kept curling, stroking, drawing out Nightswan’s orgasm until he was practically sobbing with pleasure. 

It seemed to go on forever before he was spent and Thrawn’s hands finally stilled. Nightswan’s throat was raw, his chest heaving as he panted desperately for breath with aftershocks still shaking through him. Thrawn was looking up at him with an expression of mild shock on his face, his mouth still hanging open, come covering his tongue and dripping slowly down his chin. 

“I— I’m sorry, I—” Utterly stunned, Nightswan floundered, staring down at Thrawn as he tried to catch his breath again. “I didn’t expect it to be… so much.” 

Thrawn didn’t answer at first, releasing Nightswan’s cock and bringing his thumb up to wipe the come off his bottom lip before finally closing his mouth. 

And then swallowing. 

Nightswan let out a shivering groan as he watched Thrawn obviously working the taste around in his mouth a little, head tilting to one side and his tongue flickering out to lick his lips. 

“It was not the quantity I found surprising,” Thrawn remarked after a moment, sounding slightly breathless and pausing to wipe his mouth off onto the back of his wrist. “I did not anticipate it being quite so… forceful.” 

Nightswan opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a whimper instead as Thrawn's fingers finally slid back out of him. The admiral rose to his feet in one quick, graceful movement, leaning down with one hand braced on the mattress to cover Nightswan’s mouth with his. Nightswan groaned at the taste of himself on Thrawn’s tongue, the kiss long and deep enough to leave him feeling stunned and breathless all over again. When Thrawn finally broke away, Nightswan started shuffling over on the bed, making room to tug the admiral back down with him. 

Thrawn hesitated, clearing his throat, and Nightswan looked at him curiously. 

“I should perhaps wash my hands, first,” Thrawn said, a faint blush rising in his face. 

“Oh. Right. Yeah…” Nightswan looked Thrawn up and down, not bothering to bite back his grin. The admiral was a complete, delicious mess; his hair utterly disheveled, his own come still coating his stomach and one hip and Nightswan’s smeared over his chin. “You might want to clean up a little more than just your hands, for that matter.” 

Thrawn raised an eyebrow at him and Nightswan glanced down at himself. “I know, I’m not much better,” he admitted with a laugh. “Go ahead, I’ll go after you.” 

He was absolutely covered in slowly cooling sweat, and had a rather generous amount of Thrawn’s come drying on his hands and wrists— though he’d inadvertently wiped a lot of it off already on the bedding. And on Thrawn as well, for that matter. He’d definitely have to swap the sheets out for a clean set before leaving in the morning, and try to figure out a way to wash these ones without anyone seeing the state they were in. 

Or maybe he’d just… throw them away entirely, to be on the safe side. 

Thrawn headed off to the refresher and Nightswan flopped over onto his back with a deep sigh, utterly drained and supremely content. A wry little voice in the back of his mind wondered if maybe he had died out there on the ice last night after all and somehow wound up in one of the better versions of the afterlife. 

Staring at the ceiling, Nightswan let his eyes drift shut with a smile. He’d be revisiting some of _these_ memories in the future, that was for damn sure. Pity they wouldn’t have time tomorrow for more, though… 

He only realized he’d dozed off when he woke up with a start to Thrawn’s voice. 

“I believe the storm has abated enough for me to contact the _Chimaera_ without raising suspicion,” Thrawn was saying as he bent down to collect his underwear off the floor. Nightswan lazily turned over onto his side, watching with an appreciative smirk. Thrawn really did have the most _fantastic_ ass. “As you said, it would be less than ideal if my officers decided to attempt a misguided rescue by assaulting your base.” 

“Good call,” Nightswan agreed. Thrawn started digging around through the rumpled bedding for his undershirt and Nightswan finally rolled out of bed to go take his turn cleaning up. Ignoring his own clothes for the moment, he crossed the room on somewhat wobbly legs, glancing back in time to see Thrawn watching _him_ with an appreciative little smirk of his own. 

Thrawn looked entirely unabashed at being caught looking, and Nightswan shot him a broad grin before disappearing into the ‘fresher. 


	7. (SFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief summary of the last chapter if you're skipping the smut! 
> 
> Thrawn got enough of his comm repaired to hook it up to the transmitter, but he has to wait until the storm weakens a little before he can contact the Chimaera, otherwise it would be suspicious because his comm alone wouldn’t be powerful enough to cut through the interference just yet. They put the time to very good use, and we now rejoin them afterwards. The storm has begun to lessen enough for Thrawn to contact his flagship and reassure his officers that he has not, in fact, been captured by rebel forces.

By the time Nightswan exited the refresher, Thrawn was seated at the table and already in the middle of his comm call, presumably to the _Chimaera_ in orbit. Nightswan padded silently across the room, listening as he located his own underclothes. 

“No,” Thrawn was saying, “it is too dangerous in this weather. I am uninjured and have found sufficient shelter to wait out the rest of the storm. It would be pointless to risk yet another transport.” 

Despite Thrawn’s continual fiddling with the frequency tuning on the transmitter, the voice on the other end was heavily distorted as they confirmed the admiral’s orders. A hint of a smile touched those dark lips as the nameless voice crackled briefly in and out, and Nightswan abruptly realized that Thrawn hadn’t been trying to get a better connection, as he’d first assumed. The admiral had instead been purposely making the connection seem weaker than it was. 

Grimacing slightly and looking forward to a proper shower and some clean kriffing clothes when he finally got back to base, Nightswan climbed back into bed as Thrawn shut the comm-transmitter rig down again. 

“Clever,” Nightswan commented, fluffing the covers and getting comfortable. “How are you going to explain being able to contact them at all once they see the state of your comm, though?” 

“An unfortunate and unavoidable accident.” Thrawn’s shoulders lifted in a minute shrug and the smile touching his lips widened slightly. “I will simply avoid mentioning precisely when that accident took place.” 

Nightswan snorted as he settled in, staying propped up on one elbow to look at Thrawn. 

“It would not be a lie,” Thrawn said mildly, looking at him curiously. 

“Some would say purposeful omission is the same as a lie,” Nightswan pointed out, and Thrawn merely shrugged again, a knowing gleam in his eyes. 

“Is there another mattress I may use?” he asked, not speaking to the mild accusation. 

Nightswan cocked his head. “Well yes, but it won’t be all that comfortable. There’s enough room here,” he said, gesturing to the bed. 

“I did not wish to intrude,” Thrawn said, voice just a bit too casual.

Nightswan smiled. “Not at all,” he replied, pulling back the covers and patting the mattress beside him.

Thrawn returned the smile, then went to turn the lights off before crossing back to the bed. “Thank you,” he said as he gracefully slid beneath the covers next to Nightswan.

“Of course,” Nightswan said, giving Thrawn a moment to settle before shuffling closer and throwing an arm over that wonderfully broad, powerful chest. “Might as well make the most of this while we can.” 

Thrawn wrapped an arm loosely around his shoulders in return. “I agree.” 

They lay like that for a few minutes in a surprisingly comfortable silence, Nightswan tracing idle patterns on Thrawn’s chest over top of his undershirt and listening to his slow, steady breathing. He could feel the tendrils of sleep creeping in, but he wasn’t quite ready to slip off just yet. Once morning came, it would bring with it an end to their little interlude. He would no longer be able to afford himself the luxury of seeing Thrawn as… as a friend. A lover instead of an adversary. 

Nightswan pushed that thought away. It could wait until morning. 

“Well. That was something,” he murmured, yawning. “I hope you had a good time too, though… kinda feels like I got the better end of that deal.” 

Thrawn chuckled, his fingers tightening on Nightswan shoulder in a brief, gentle squeeze. “I must disagree. This experience was highly enjoyable for me as well, I assure you.” The faint glow of his eyes turned towards Nightswan in the darkness and he paused before continuing. “It is a shame there will not be time for any further exploration.” 

“If that’s an invitation, I’m not sure I’ve quite got the energy or the stamina to go again just now,” Nightswan said ruefully, stifling another yawn. Twenty years ago, maybe, but… 

Thrawn laughed softly again, turning onto his side to face Nightswan and draping one arm over his waist. “Nor do I. It was merely an… observation.” 

“Mm,” Nightswan hummed. Sleep was closing in, his mind starting to swim in and out of consciousness. “Maybe next time.” 

“Maybe, indeed,” Thrawn said, his voice seeming to come from a great distance; and that was the last thing Nightswan remembered before sleep finally claimed him. 

* * *

“Nightswan.”

Distantly, Nightswan realized the voice calling his name was not, in fact, part of the very pleasant dream he was currently having, and he slowly opened his eyes. 

“What?” he grumbled, blinking sleepily. The room was still nearly pitch dark, the generators humming away faintly, and he was comfortable and warm. When was the last time he had felt truly comfortable when he slept? He couldn’t remember, and closed his eyes again, sleep calling.

“It is time for me to leave.” 

Nightswan’s eyes snapped open, his mind finally coming fully back up to speed. Thrawn was speaking to him. They were in bed, and with a small jolt, he realized his back was to the admiral, pressed against his firm torso. Their legs were tangled together and Thrawn was holding him close, one arm under his head and the other wrapped around his waist. Despite his initial surprise, Nightswan found himself immediately relaxing again. 

“What time is it?” Nightswan asked, snuggling in a little closer to Thrawn. He didn’t want this comfortable moment to end. When it did, it meant they had to go back to who they usually were, a rebel leader and a grand admiral. 

Enemies.

“Nearly 0400,” Thrawn said, and to Nightswan’s surprise, he allowed Nightswan’s movement, tucking his fingers beneath Nightswan’s hip and curling around him, almost protectively. “The storm has nearly passed and I must return to the landing site before either of our rescue teams arrive.” 

“Right,” Nightswan said softly. For a moment neither of them moved, and Nightswan was surprised to find that it still didn’t feel awkward. He could feel Thrawn’s steady breathing on his back, much slower than his own, and he wondered if Thrawn had fallen asleep again.

“When you have returned to your base and presented the information to your peers, hail us,” Thrawn said into his thoughts. “We will take the call, but remember— you must not show yourself. Your coming task will be much harder if the Empire knows you are alive.” 

“I remember,” Nightswan said with a sigh. “But I’m not going off on this mission until things are settled here. People need to be returned to their homes, their lives…” Nightswan trailed off. Rebuilding was always hard. Joyful at times, to be sure, but hard nonetheless. Trying to return to a life before it had fallen apart was always difficult. He would do his best to help these people do that. 

“I understand,” Thrawn said. “Along with the information gathered from Gerrera’s ship are instructions for contacting me with your findings. I would appreciate regular updates, if possible.”

Nightswan nodded silently. This mission, following Gerrera’s trail, would be dangerous for the both of them. He knew where Thrawn stood in the Empire. Thrawn was powerful, yes, but had more than a few enemies hiding in the political shadows. Hell, even a few in the military shadows too. Enemies that would jump at the chance to accuse Thrawn of treason, to take him down. And Nightswan would be sure to go down with him if that happened. 

“Can I take someone with me on this?” Nightswan asked abruptly. Thinking about fallen rebel leaders had brought one of his companions to mind, one who might be instrumental in helping Nightswan unravel the secrets he was sure to find. 

“If you are thinking of involving Berch Teller, yes,” Thrawn said, and Nightswan didn’t miss the smile in his tone. 

In contrast, Nightswan scowled, and looked over his shoulder to glare at Thrawn. He had forgotten Thrawn’s eyes glowed slightly in the dark, but didn’t let that cow him. 

“How the hell do you know about Teller?” Nightswan asked suspiciously, mentally kicking himself. He _really_ should have been more careful when he comm’d the base.

Thrawn shrugged. “An informed guess. I take it he did not meet his end on Eriadu?”

Nightswan sighed, rolling back over and snuggling close again. “He nearly did; Tarkin is a cruel man. But no. He survived.” Nightswan didn’t go into the details— that Teller had lost an arm and an eye fighting his way off Tarkin’s home estate, the Carrion Plateau, and hadn’t let those losses stop him from fighting the Empire. Teller had been part of Nightswan’s cadre for years, running comms and slicing into the restricted holonet and providing valuable support. He could be brash, driven by revenge, but his time spent as a captain in the Republic military and the very brief stint spent serving the Empire before defecting made him a powerful ally. 

“Do you trust him?” Thrawn asked, and Nightswan laughed.

“With my life,” Nightswan said, grinning and shaking his head. Teller had been in this fight for nearly a decade longer than Nightswan. Some reverently referred to him as one of this first great rebel leaders. Nightswan could think of no one better to have at his side.

“Then yes, bring him,” Thrawn said. “If what I have been able to learn of him is true, he could prove invaluable.”

“He gets all the same protections I do,” Nightswan said firmly. “More, if possible. If Tarkin knows he’s alive, he won’t stop hunting him until he’s dead.”

“Perhaps,” Thrawn said thoughtfully, and Nightswan got the feeling Thrawn knew more than he was telling. “Regardless, I will obfuscate his involvement from Colonel Yularen. You have my word.”

“Thank you,” Nightswan said, and to his disappointment, the heavy warmth of Thrawn’s arm disappeared from his waist as the admiral sat up.

“I will provide what support I can, but I will not be able to contact you until you initiate communications,” Thrawn said, untangling himself from the covers and standing. Nightswan rolled over, allowing his gaze to wander as Thrawn stretched and walked to the kitchen to grab a ration bar from the counter. With the generator fixed, the safe house was a little warmer than it had been, and Thrawn— who really did seem to handle lower temperatures better than Nightswan did— seemed perfectly comfortable in nothing but his undershirt and those nicely close-fitting black briefs. 

Not that Nightswan was complaining; the view he had of Thrawn’s bare legs just about made up for the painfully early wake-up call. 

Thrawn glanced over as he sat down at the table, and Nightswan grinned, caught in his spying. Thrawn returned a small smile before opening the ration bar and taking a delicate bite, and Nightswan flushed as he remembered his own previous discomfort at eating the bland sustenance. Thrawn arched a brow at him, and Nightswan chuckled and rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

Thrawn merely smiled, and they sat in comfortable silence as he finished his meal.

Nightswan sighed as Thrawn stood up, heading for the ‘fresher. “Make sure you don’t leave anything behind that could be traced to you.”

“Of course,” Thrawn said, and he nodded to the two datacards on the table. “Do not forget those.”

“I won’t,” Nightswan promised, rolling his eyes. He was struck yet again by how similar he and Thrawn were. Planners, leaders, tacticians. Searching for surety and control in whatever situation they found themselves in. 

“This has been… nice,” Nightswan said absently as Thrawn crossed the room. Thrawn paused, and looked over at Nightswan curiously. “Not fighting, I mean. Working together, as equals. And…” Nightswan trailed off, glancing pointedly down at the bed then back to Thrawn. “That was nice too.”

Thrawn smiled. “I agree,” he said softly. “I hope that in the future, we might find ourselves in this situation again.”

“Minus the avalanche and blizzard and nearly dying in a lake?” Nightswan asked with a laugh, and Thrawn chuckled. 

“Of course,” Thrawn said. “Though our history of meeting does not bode well for that.”

Nightswan shrugged. “Third time’s the charm,” he said lightly.

Thrawn nodded, and they shared a final knowing smile before Thrawn turned into the ‘fresher. 

Nightswan didn’t know if he was pleased or disheartened that the rest of the morning passed quickly. He had wondered if saying goodbye to Thrawn would be awkward, but the admiral made little show of it, merely reminding Nightswan of the plan and offering a brief nod over his shoulder before disappearing out the door into the weak morning sunlight. He thought back to their goodbye on Batonn, and how dramatic that had seemed. But then again, they had both thought Nightswan wasn’t going to survive that affair. 

That gave Nightswan heart. He still didn’t trust the Imperials currently on the planet, but he trusted Thrawn. And if Thrawn didn’t feel the need for dramatic goodbyes, then it was likely they would see each other again. 

What such a meeting would entail, Nightswan couldn’t say. The part of him that liked to have everything planned down to the minute disliked that. But he knew there wasn’t much to be done about it now, so he snuggled back under the covers and allowed himself to get back to sleep. One thing leading rebellions had taught him was that good rest was hard to come by, and you had to take it when you could. Considering what the next few months of his life were shaping up to be, he knew he needed to take advantage of that now. 

Idly, as whispers of slumber tugged at his mind, he realized the pillows smelled like Thrawn. A subtle scent, musky and spicy and clean despite their misadventure on the snowy planet. 

He drifted off like that, with a smile on his lips and that warm smell filling his senses. 


	8. Epilogue (SFW)

“So. Are you going to tell me what really happened down there?”

Thrawn looked up from the report he was wrapping up and smiled at Faro as she dropped into a chair on the opposite side of his desk. She sat straight and formal as ever, but there was a twinkle of mischief glimmering in her eyes. 

Thrawn sat up, relaxing back in his own chair and studying the woman before him. Commodore Faro had, for want of a better word, blossomed under his command. She was more confident, sure of herself, and better equipped to handle engagements. Thrawn was proud of her, and he hoped she knew that even if he didn’t directly say it. 

“Are you asking me this in your official capacity, Commodore?” Thrawn asked, idly steepling his fingers as he gazed at her. 

Faro shrugged. “I’m not really sure. The situation wrapped itself up rather neatly, far more neatly than I had anticipated. I’m wondering if your little trip down there had something to do with it.”

Thrawn didn’t respond right away. Faro could be described as a by-the-book officer, strictly adhering to military protocol aboard ship. She never questioned his orders, and expected her subordinates to do the same. But she could also be idealistic, and willing to let regulation slide in favor of achieving what she felt was a worthy goal. Or at least, bend said regulations to fit her needs. 

It was a trait Thrawn liked about her. He decided to press on it, just a bit. 

“If I told you my report did not contain every detail of my time spent on-planet, would you still sign off on it, and deliver it to High Command?” Thrawn asked.

Faro cocked her head. “Well. I can’t rightfully sign off on anything I know to be untruthful,” she said after a moment's hesitation.

Thrawn smiled. “Then I will not burden you with needless details of my adventure.”

Faro shook her head, grinning. “Alright then. You know, you’re lucky I trust you. Some officers wouldn’t let that slide.”

“I know. Thank you,” Thrawn said, inclining his head in a nod. _Trust_. A complicated, messy thing, at times. Hard to build, easy to lose. And with some, no trust could ever be established. All facets of a relationship built on give and take, the need of the moment and the possible rewards of betraying the other. It was almost a relief to work with someone like Faro, loyal not for loyalty’s sake or for possible benefit, but because she viewed their shared goals as worthy of her trust.

A thought occurred to Thrawn. “Perhaps, if the time comes, I will tell you some of the details,” he said, studying her reaction. She quirked a brow, but he saw nothing more than curiosity in her features. No hidden plotting or malice. “It is not relevant now, nor may it ever be,” Thrawn continued. “But as situations change, I may require your assistance.”

“Well, I’d be honored to help in any way I can,” Faro said kindly. “Knowing you, it’s probably going to be something you need help sweeping under High Command’s rug,” she joked, but her smile faltered slightly as she saw Thrawn’s expression. 

“Perhaps,” was all Thrawn said. _Trust._ At least he could trust Faro. And after the events here, he knew he could trust Nightswan as well. Thrawn knew Nightswan respected him, but respect only went so far on the battlefield. And yet, Nightswan had made no move to remove Thrawn from that battlefield, despite numerous chances to do so. They both were working towards the same goal, what with following the leads Gerrera had turned up, but even then, even with that tenuous balance of benefits they could provide one another, Thrawn knew that the relationship he now shared with Nightswan was something more. It went beyond mere battlefield respect. 

_Trust._

Thrawn trusted Eli. He trusted Faro. And now he trusted Nightswan. And with every being he folded into his small circle, he increased the chances that his own, hidden goal would be successful. 

At least, he hoped that he did. The future of the galaxy depended on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming on this journey with us! Safe to say, the story doesn't end here.... ;) These two are just so much fun to write, both plot-wise and smut-wise, and we have many more ideas! So stay tuned for part two!


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